Rome: Total War - Invictus
by Kanuro5
Summary: In 85 B.C., the Senatorial Army of the Republic is being decimated by barbarian hordes and are in dire need of rescue. The Senate dispatched the elite 28th Legion of the Julii family under the leadership of the heir to the Julii family, Lucius Julius, to save the Senatorial Army. But Lucius will come to know that his problems are much closer to home than he realizes.
1. Intro - The Choosing

**Note from Kanuro5: **Hello, this my first Total War Fanfic I thought it to be appropriate to combine some themes from Rome Total War 2 (although I haven't played the game yet, I just heard some key features) and incorporate them in the original game's story line. Just thought I wanted to get that out there. I hope you all enjoy the read!

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**In 85 B.C. the Roman Republic was at the height of its power. The Republic stretched from the deserts of Africa to the edges of Northern Europe. In the north, the Romans have pushed back the barbarian horde back to the tip of Gallia. With one last Gallic city remaining, the Roman Senate sends their Senatorial army under their Praetor Marcus Maxentius to deliver the final blow to destroy Rome's longest enemy forever.**

_**Introduction  
**_

_**Rome**_

The day the streets of Rome fall silent is the day that Rome is conquered. Past the noon hour, Rome is as loud as it is magnificent. But no place is as loud as the Grand marketplace. The vendors are shouting their sales, exotic animals from all around the world ranging from birds to monkeys are chirping and screeching into the air, the giggles of a mistress as a cheating husband feels up her stola and kisses upon her neck, cursing and spitting from haggling gone wrong, and the laughs of the mischievous youths playing childish tricks on the old. But amongst the dull and meaningless plebs venturing in the marketplace, there was a unique old man browsing through the wares. He was surrounded by two Praetorian guards and was escorted by an assistant and a body slave. He was Caius Maxentius, the Consul of the Senate.

"Ah, Polycratis my old friend, what wares do you have for today?" the Consul asked a middle aged Greek vendor with a smile.

"Greetings Consul, I have just what you need . . . here you go." Polycratis handed Consul Maxentius a large jug of wine. "This is sweet white wine imported all the way from Hispania, made with the most exquisite grapes ever squeezed! And best of all, no water has corrupted the flavor! This is the best jug of wine that you'll ever find throughout the entire Republic!"

"Hmm, I will be the judge of that Polycratis. Dismas, cup!" Maxentius ordered his Greek body slave. Dismas pulled out a small cup and handed it over to the Consul. The Consul took the jug and poured a sample of the delectable wine into the cup. He then drank from the cup and slowly drank the wine. Once the cup was empty, the Consul smiled at the Greek vendor.

"Unbelievable! This must have been made by Bacchus himself!" the Consul exclaimed, "Ah my old friend, you name a reasonable price and I will pay f—"

"Consul! Consul!" a young man bellowed as he sprinted through the crowd towards Consul Maxentius. The Consul's Praetorian stopped the young man from approaching the Consul, but upon closer inspection, the man was wearing the color of the Senate and was wearing the armor of the auxiliary.

"Wait, let the boy through, he is a messenger. Now boy, be calm and take breath, then explain what troubles you."

"Many thanks . . . I have urgent news . . . from Marcus Maxentius." The messenger caught his breath and handed the Consul a worn-out scroll. The Consul initially read the scroll quick and careless until he reached the body of the scroll. He then began reading the scroll slower and with each passing sentence—Maxentius' eyes grew larger and his mouth began to drop.

Once finished, the Consul returned his bewildered gaze upon the messenger, seemingly asking him if the news was true. The messenger brought his eyes down to the earth, away to answer the shocked Consul. The messenger finally raised his head and locked eyes with the Consul, and shook his head, confirming the tragic news.

"Quickly Olvidius head to as many senators' home as you can and tell them I am calling an emergency meeting now!" the Consul urgently ordered his assistant. "Start with Aedile Appius! I'll the get the others!"

"But Consul, another meeting is scheduled for—"

"This is an emergency! Get every senator you can now!"

An hour after the Consul was informed; the cold marble floors of the Curia were filled with the onrushing assembling of the Roman senators. The confused and agitated senators took their seats in the straight and parallel line of seats on either side the Curia. As soon as the last senator took his seat, Consul Caius Maxentius held on to his composure and calmly walked through the Curia floor and stood over the Senate behind his podium.

The Consul cleared his throat and shouted into the Senate, "Enough!" Everyone in the Curia fell silent. "This emergency meeting of the Senate is now open!"

"What is this about Caius?" one magistrate asked, "Why have you called for us to meet?"

"Yes Caius, what is this big emergency? And how come we have not shed the blood of a bull to the Gods to begin this meeting?"

"Tell us Caius!"

"Calm yourselves my brothers!" the Consul said, "I have news that you all may want to hear." The Consul ran his head through his thin grey hair and exhaled deeply; dragging the anticipation of the rest of the Senate through his every motion. He then stood erect behind his podium and held the scroll he received earlier into the air. "Within the hour, I received this scroll from a young messenger. This scroll bears words from our own Praetor Marcus Maxentius!"

"Ah good old Marcus; how can any news of our young prodigy be grim?" the Aedile asked.

"Yes, tell us all good Caius; what has become of Marcus, has he finally taken that cursed settlement?" asked another senator.

"I shall tell you what Marcus has written to us," the Consul spoke. He opened the scroll and cleared his throat. At first, he was hesitant to read the scroll out loud. It could be seen across the room that small beads of sweat could be seen on the Consul's brow. The Consul took one last look of the anxious senators before finally reverting back to reading the scroll.

"In the words of Praetor Marcus Maxentius: 'Long live the glorious Republic of Rome and long live the Senate that guides her hands. I, Praetor Marcus Maxentius, make my report to the Senate on the conquest of the Gallic settlement of Samarobriva. First, I would like to express my gratitude for giving me control of the Senate's army, more importantly, Rome's five greatest legions; _Legio XV, Legio XVI, Legio XVII, Legio XVIII, _and _Legio XVIX._ It has been a great honor leading these brave Romans into war for the Republic.

"After placing the settlement under siege, a few Gauls were taken prisoners and informed us the numbers of the Gallic army before they were crucified. The Gallic army numbered 12,000 while our superior army numbers 25,500 legionaries. After a year of the siege, we tore down the walls of Samarobriva and attacked. The battle was long and hard, but my legionaries fought with the strength of Mars and we conquered the city.'" The senators began to cheer and clap for the glorious news. But the Consul was not finished. "'But—'", the Consul continued, effectively silencing the Senate, "'It would seem that we were delivered into a trap.'" The senators began to murmur worriedly to themselves.

"'Some of my spies have reported to me grave news. The barbaric Gallic king Segovax has forged an alliance with the Brittonic and Germanic tribes on the eve of my legions arriving at Samarobriva. Upon taking Samarobriva, we were immediately besieged by both the Brittonic army led by their king Lugotorix the Bloodyhanded; and by the Germanic army led by their king Cunovindus the Butcher. Each of their armies number around 8,000 infantry, 1,000 archers, and 2,000 cavalrymen.

"Upon first attempt to break out of the encirclement; we were met with heavy resistance and forced back into the city. I regret to inform the Senate that in the fighting both the _Legio XVIX _and the _Legio XVI _were completely destroyed. Our casualties number around 12,000 dead and climbing. We have repulsed several attacks, but we lost several cohorts in the process. I urgently request that the Senate will send reinforcements. The remaining food in the settlement can supplement the army for six months, but I fear if help is not granted we may be overrun in three months. I will fight on with my men until I can fight no more. May Jupiter and Mars grant us strength. Long live the glorious Republic of Rome and the Senate that guides her hands.'"

The Consul's hands were still trembling as he rolled the scroll back up and placed it on his podium. He gazed back up to face the senators, but could not meet their eyes; for their heads were fixated on the floor in horror. The silence in the Curia was so vast that a tiny gnat buzzing among the roof sound like a trumpet. Such silence has never been heard before in the walls of the Curia since the news of Hannibal's victory at Cannae.

"Jupiter help us all," the Aedile said to himself breaking the silence.

"Two . . . two legions completely destroyed . . ."

"This is most dire news indeed."

"Why? Why would there be a three-pact alliance with the barbaric tribes?"

"The three tribes have been fighting long before Rome had a king!"

"How could we be so foolish to give Marcus our armies?!"

"It is not Marcus' fault that all of this happened."

"I agree; Marcus has done much for the Republic."

"Damn the past and open eyes to the present Septus! He lost two of our legions and is bound to lose the last three! He has brought shame and dishonor to the Senate and to Rome!"

"Hold tongue and open closed ears fool! Marcus can still be saved! We just need to send more men!"

"Why?! So they can be destroyed just like Marcus'?!"

"I agree!"

"So do I!"

"Well I believe Marcus can be saved!"

The squabble amongst the Senate grew loud and fierce. A third of the Senate voted to save Marcus and the Senate's army, a third voted to leave Marcus to a dishonorable fate, and the last third were indecisive.

But amongst the quarreling of the wrinkly old senators and the middle-aged balding senators; there calmly sat one young senator who excused himself from the petty argument. He held the title of Quaestor, the financial supervisor of the Republic, yet this troubling matter fell into his knowledge of expertise.

"ENOUGH!" the young Quaestor screamed at the top of his lungs. The arguing senators quieted down and took a seat.

The Quaestor picked up the bottom of his senatorial toga and calmly walked down the stairs to the Senate floor. He calmly but slowly spun around in a complete circle as if he was try to gauge the size of the Curia. His smile shined confidence and knowledge and his chuckle showed that he had a plan.

The Quaestor had short black hair, brown piercing eyes, and teeth as white as the full moon. He was stocky in complexion and had an impressive frame of six feet and an inch. But aside from his impressive build, his face was riddled with deep scars from constant battle and his left ear was missing from his head. Though recognizable for his scarred face, he has made lasting impressions on many Romans for his knowledge of finance and oratory prowess.

But for all his skills and knowledge, he is seen as a black sheep amongst the other senators. He holds this disdain for being the only senator and office holder that is from the three main Roman families. The young Quaestor's name is Tiberius Pullius of the Julii family.

"Ah esteemed and worthy senators," Tiberius said with a laugh, "Why do you all squabble and fight like piglets trying to suckle the teat from their mother? I understand the point of the Senate is to fight and argue to provide a better life for the citizens of Rome. But, although I have one ear, do not be fooled that my hearing is gone for I can hear as well as Diana when her game starts to flee a mile away. This is not about the people of Rome. No, this is for you Senate."

"Cease talking in riddles Tiberius and tell us what you mean!" one of the senators shouted at the Quaestor as other senators shouted in agreement. Tiberius turned his eyes to the ceiling and chuckled loudly.

"What I am trying to say, dear Silvanius, is that the Senate sent a boy without hair upon chin to perform a man's job." Half of the Senate began booing and hissing at the young man. Tiberius extended his hands to calm down the Senate, "Hold tongue and open ears to my words of fact and wisdom . . . for centuries, the Senate has sent the armies of the three great Roman families: the Julii, the Brutii, and the Scipii; to solve problems of the Republic and to fight off foreign enemies and expand Rome's territory.

"But once the three families gained more popularity with the masses; you senators grew jealous in your hearts and began to connive and scheme a way to be loved by the plebs as they love the families. No man here should speak, for you all know it to be true! After 200 years, you send the Senatorial army out to expand Rome's boundaries with the best Senatorial leader you can find, Marcus Maxentius. But it's been a long time since any of you senators have actually seen a battle. If so, you would realize that the Senatorial Army is the Praetorian guard of Rome; it is Rome's last line of defense if all else fails and must remain in Rome at all times.

"Because of your petty jealously; the great Marcus Maxentius is in mortal danger. But what adds salt to wound is your refusal to help him. Marcus is drowning in a sea of blood; and instead of extending hand and helping him to dry land; you senators take out your cocks and piss in his mouth. I motion to send help to Marcus. And if you refuse, please keep in mind that once Marcus falls; not one, not two, not three, not four, but **five** gold standards of Rome will be lost. The five gold eagles of the Senate will be lost forever, and Marcus' head will ride back to Rome in a wooden box. Such shame will never be seen by the plebs towards the Senate, and the plebs will forever worship the ground of the Three Families of Rome."

The senators began to softly murmur amongst each other in agreement with Tiberius' statements. One of the senators stood up and asked Tiberius, "If we do send help, how many should we send?"

"The question is not 'how many', but of whom to send. If we wait to raise another legion, then it would be too late for dear Marcus. We cannot wait to raise a complete legion. We need to use the families for help. And I, Quaestor Tiberius Julius, vote that the Senate assign the Julii—"

Before another word could be issued off of his tongue, the entirety of the Senate rose up in hostility against Tiberius. Outbursts of curses and shouts rained down on the young Quaestor.

"I knew it! By Jupiter I knew it!" roared Magistrate Calavius at Tiberius. His booming voice effectively silenced the entire Curia as he went into a blood-frenzied tirade, "It is obvious of what you do Tiberius! You obviously want your family, who you're not even to related to by blood, to gain favor over the Senate! And I for one will not stand for this! The Julii's ambition for total power is well known! Your leader, Decius Julius, does not have Rome's best interest at heart, only its purse! You sons of curs will use the mob against us to gain power and influence! We should call on the Roman kings of old, rather than the dishonorable Julii! To what end should we call upon the Julii I ask you Tiberius! To what end?!"

"And I shall tell you dear Magistrate, but I only ask that every man here who hides no falsehood speak to me now and tell the truth. Tell me, would you send a snake catcher to hunt a lion? Would you send a fisherman to obtain honey from bees? The answers are apparent for any man blessed with sanity. For years, the Roman families have specialized in destroying certain enemies of Rome. The Brutii are blessed at destroying Greeks, the Scipii are blessed at destroying Carthaginians, and the Julii are blessed at destroying barbarians!

"Must it be said that the Julii was the only family to expand the boundaries of the Republic more than both the Brutii's and Scipii's expansion combine? It was the great Julii family that broke the back of the Spanish barbaric tribes and claimed the region of Hispania for the Republic. So listen well dear senators, I do not deny that I favor the Julii above all others; but I base my choice off the experience the Julii have against the barbarian hordes; thus I ask the Senate to assign the Julii the mission of rescuing Marcus Maxentius."

The anger among the senators quickly subsided. The senators began exchanging blank glances with each other, and slowly they began sitting down in their seats. Even Magistrate Calavius, the man who cursed Tiberius, looked around at the seating Senate and meekly took his seat.

"Now for the next matter," Tiberius continued with a confident smile, "Is who to send? Unfortunately for the Senate, the Julii are overextended amongst their territory and there are no sizeable legions that can match the Senatorial Army which could be raised in time. But there is one man who I know that can save Marcus. He is the governor of Alesia, the Hero of the Lucretian Bridge, General of the famed _Legio XXVIII_, the Heir of the Julii family, Lucius Julius the Mighty!"

"Lucius the Mighty?" Consul Maxentius asked, finally speaking up, "Oh Tiberius, you indeed are wise beyond your years for you have picked a man that exemplifies the true characters of Roman virtue. He is a true Roman, but he only has one legion. How can 5000 men fight off over 10,000 barbarians?"

"But behold, Lucius doesn't not command an ordinary legion; he controls the legendary Twenty-Eighth. Lucius' has commanded his personal legion for more than 20 years. The Twenty-Eighth have put down revolt after revolt, slain countless Barbaric kings and princes, and have saved mainland Italia from the Gallic invasion by the Gallic king Agracingetorix at Lucretian Bridge seven long years ago. It was at Lucretian Bridge that Lucius' 5000 legionnaires held the bridge from three continuous days of assault from the Gallic horde which numbered in the tens of thousands! It was at that battle that I, Tiberius Pullius, was Lucius' tribune at that time, and the both of us slayed around 30 barbarians on the bridge by ourselves. I lost my precious left ear in the battle; but if it wasn't for Lucius' legendary skill of command; I would have lost my head. And it was from Lucius' recommendation himself that I was formally adopted into the Julii family for my exploits of bravery!

"But let it be known that ever legionary present at the battle had hearts of lions on that bridge and their spirits have never waned throughout the years. The _Legio XXVIII_ is stationed at Alesia as we speak, and Alesia itself is only two months away from Samarobriva. Thus, we must place our hope in the hands of Lucius Julius and his brave Twenty-Eighth that they can save Marcus from complete annihilation!"

The end of Tiberius' speech fueled the passion for the Republic inside the senators' hearts. They stood to their feet and began applauding the young Quaestor and soon they began chanting for a majority vote to mobilize Lucius' legion.

"Still your tongues and take ear!" Consul Maxentius asked of the Senate. He stood erect behind his marble podium and cleared his throat, "In the motion for the mobilization of the _Legio XXVIII _of Alesia to reinforce the settlement of Samarobriva; all in favor of the motion, raise thy hand." Every hand in the Curia went into the air.

"Granted. By unanimous vote, the _Legio XXVIII_ shall be mobilized at once and the Julii will send Lucius Julius to reinforce Samarobriva. As the Consul and seen in the eyes of Jupiter, this emergency meeting in the Senate is adjourned. This will be followed by the sacrifice of ten great bulls! Long live the Glorious Republic of Rome and long live the Senate that guides her hands."

The room once again was filled with the sounds of gossip and rumors as the senators rushed off to the offering chambers. But only Tiberius stayed behind. He slowly took his steps throughout the empty Curia and looked up to the heavens.

_I am terribly sorry my old friend_, Tiberius thought to himself, _I understand that I have placed a heavy burden on you. But I hope that you will understand that I gave you this mission because you are the only one in the Republic that can do it. I thank the Gods every day that you saved me on that damn bridge all those years ago_, Tiberius reflected as he felt the stubble that used to be his left ear, _I believed in you then, just like I believe in you now. I know that you can save Marcus; because if you can't, then who could . . . May Mars guide your steel and may Minerva grant you wisdom in these troubling times; and may Jupiter watch over us all. _"Long live the glorious Republic of Rome . . . and long live the Julii that grants Rome her strength."


	2. Absent Thoughts

**Note from Kanuro5: **Now that the prologue is out of the way, I get to introduce the characters of the story. Hope you all will enjoy it.

**Warning! **This chapter will have strong language and explicit sexual content and themes; and some disturbing sexual images.

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_**I**_

_**Alesia**_

The weather in Roman controlled Gallia was a brisk yet bone chilling cold that covered the entire region, yet such wealth was common in the autumn in the capital of Alesia. It has been five years since Lucius Julius took the Gallic capital; and in those five years, Lucius transformed the large desolate "mud hole" into a livable and thriving Roman city that rivaled the Julii capital of Arretium.

Instead of flimsy wooden huts, citizens of Alesia now lived in sturdy stone homes. Simple derelict roads were transformed into new paved highways. Concepts of plumbing were introduced to Alesia along with improved barracks, stables, and missile ranges for the legion to train and to rebuild their numbers. Such construction prowess has not been seen since the time of the Julii leader, Flavius the Builder.

But the most impressive building in the former barbaric capital was the new Governor's Palace which was erected in the middle of the city. And inside the palace, a very special Roman was being trained in the arts of war.

"Again!"

Inside the center of the palace, two Romans, one young and one old, were sparring against each other using practice wooden Gladii to hone their skills with the sword.

The older Roman was a reasonably handsome man who had just broke into the age of 35 not to long ago. He stood at six feet and was blessed with the physique of Mars himself. He had dark brown short hair and sported a neatly trimmed beard and goatee. One noticeable feature on his face was a long protruding scar that went from his left ear lobe, all the way to his lip. He wore the ebony black and red armor of a Tribune and was the second-in-command and Captain of the _Legio XXVIII_; he was Gnaeus Antonius.

The younger Roman has just become a man a week ago on his 16th birthday. He was short standing at five feet and four inches with a thin figure. His young childish face was smoothed with perfection without a strand of hair or boils blemishing his bare face. His short wavy hair was a fair shade of auburn while his bangs were tinted black. But something made this young Roman stand out from all the rest; it wasn't the wealth of his family, or their positions in the Republic; but of the boy's own eyes. The boy received his mother's sapphire blue colored eyes in his right eye; but he was born with his left eye emerald green. Two different eye colors in Rome were extremely rare and the young Roman was often ridiculed for his strange eyes when he was a boy. But he learned to later accept it and eventually took pride of his uniqueness throughout the Republic. Among the Julii, he was known for his outstanding maturity for his age and for his idealistic nature. He was cheerful, honest, kind, and knowledgeable; he exhibited all the virtues of a true Roman. The young Roman is of the House of Julii; his name is Vitus Julius, and he is the younger son of the Julii faction heir Lucius Julius, and nephew of Julii leader Decius Julius.

"Again!" Antonius smirked as Vitus got back up to his feet.

"I will get you this time!" Vitus eagerly smiled as he fixed his stance.

"That's what you said the last dozen times, and still words bear no fruit," Antonius chuckled.

"But I've been gotten better since we started today, you cannot deny me of that."

"Indeed you have, but it still stands to be seen that you have not laid a single blow on me." Antonius indeed recognized that Vitus' skills with the sword were improving at a rapid pace, faster than any legionary or centurion he trained. Although he was small, Vitus was quick and nimble with the sword and could out-move his opponents when he was on his feet. At the rate he was improving, in six months of centurion style training, Vitus could possibly surpass Antonius himself.

"Let us switch now," Antonius commanded, "I be on the offense and you counterattack on the defense. Now remember, to always put power on the killing blow."

Antonius and Vitus got into position and slowly but carefully advanced closer to each other until they were in handshaking distance. Both men paused and stared into each other's eyes. Antonius smirked as he saw confidence and eagerness shine from Vitus' multicolored eyes.

Antonius started as he drove his wooden sword down on top of Vitus' head. Vitus took a half step back and blocked the incoming attacked. Antonius then pressed his attacks with multiple hacks and thrusts; but Antonius kept his distance and blocked each of Antonius' attacks with relative ease. Antonius last attack came in a heavy slash whilst he let out a thunderous yell.

Vitus brought his blade up and blocked the heavy downward slash and the two Romans were now locked together in a battle of strength. Antonius being the bigger man was easily winning the power struggle. With his back bending under the weight of his opponent, Vitus used all his strength in his young legs to pivot out of the struggle and caught Antonius off guard. Now Vitus went on the offense.

Vitus pressed Antonius back with powerful, yet slow wild swings followed by shouts that could rival the doomed souls of Elysium. With each barbaric swing of Vitus' sword, Antonius would simply evade each strike, not even putting up his sword to block.

Throughout the assault, Vitus' form grew sloppy and his moves began to slow as he grew tired. But with his last reserve of strength; Vitus shouted at the top of his lungs and lunged forward to stab Antonius in his stomach.

Antonius, seeing the move a mile away, took a side-step to his left and spun out of the way of Vitus' lunge until he was right behind Vitus. With his back towards Vitus and without turning around, Antonius struck the back of Vitus' knee with the edge of his sword and caused the young Roman to crumble to the floor.

Vitus lied on the floor gasping for air as he stared into the ceiling of the palace. Antonius casually approached the lying Vitus and placed the tip of his sword to his throat. Vitus turned his eyes onto the victorious Captain as he stood over top of him.

Antonius raised his left eyebrow and broke out into an arrogant grin, "Now I know that your legendary father has taught you never to swing wildly, am I right?"

"I . . . only did . . . what you instructed me . . . to do," Vitus gasped as he tried to catch his breath.

Antonius pressed his sword harder into Vitus' throat, "That being?"

"To put power behind the killing blow."

Antonius began to chuckle and removed the sword from Vitus' throat, "I said 'the killing blow' not every blow."

"But isn't every blow the killing bow?" Vitus asked.

Antonius began to laugh to himself at the truth behind the question. Antonius extended his hand towards Vitus and pulled him up to his feet and dusted him off.

"Well . . . your words do ring true," Antonius chuckled as he placed a hand on the young Vitus' shoulder, "But you do not put all your strength behind all your strikes. No benefit can ever be reached from such ways of thinking. If all strength in the body is conjured into every attack during a battle, it leaves the body slow and vulnerable, just like you were not too long ago."

Vitus weakly chuckled to himself as he understood how he misinterpreted the Tribune's wise words.

"Another thing which claws at my thoughts," Antonius continued, "During the bout, upon what part of my body were you aiming to commit grievous wound or death?"

"Uh . . . I, absent words cannot move tongue," Vitus chuckled embarrassingly, "I did not take into account of where to aim my blade; I was committed to cleave you in two."

"Just like a barbarian would. Please open ears to advice, while using all strength to swing like a man cursed with madness, you waste precious energy and time to deliver fatal blow." Antonius took a step back from Vitus and drew his real Gladius and showed Vitus the precious steel sword.

"Our swords are great tools for war," Antonius said as he moved the sword around, "They can hack off the limbs of barbarians and slice apart the fragments of their weak armor, but the secret to our swords is the thrust. This is primarily for stabbing the enemies in their exposed bodies. Why waste energy and precious seconds hacking and chopping; while you can use a simple thrust to end it all?"

"It seems the Tribune is fond of bringing up dead barbarians during instruction," Vitus smirked.

"As should you be, young Vitus. The barbaric tribes are lowly savages who do not know the meaning of discipline. They charge wildly into battle and sometimes enter battle completely naked. They flail their weapons around as if they were possessed by demons. You see Vitus; barbarians rely on numbers and brute strength; while we Romans rely on tactics and precision. And that is what you need to have when you are fighting on horseback or on foot; precision!" Antonius said as he thrust his sword out for emphasis.

"When you fight for the first time, you may want to strike at every little thing that crosses your path. But that cannot be; you will need to find openings and then strike with great precision to kill your enemies. Strength is not your greatest asset, but speed is for you. Find a way to use your speed and to seek out your enemies' vulnerability and you will be unmatched."

"Many thanks Antonius. But if I should get better, why can I not train with actual steel?"

"Because your mother will not allow it," a voice said behind him.

Entering into the room accompanied by a number of scantily dressed female slaves was a middle-aged woman of status. She wore a crimson stola that covered her from her neck to her feet but was open enough in her chest to show off her ample cleavage. She was decorated in exquisite jewelry that was worth more than ten ordinary house slaves. She had long flowing auburn hair that went past her shoulders and stopped at her lower back. Her name is Octavia; and she is the wife of Lucius Julius and the mother of Proculus and Vitus Julius.

Another woman of equal status was walking right beside her. She was Appia and she was married to the older son of Lucius and Octavia, Proculus Julius. But unlike her mother-in-law, Appia was young; she was 20 years old and did not have a single wrinkle on her face. She had blonde hair with the front half of her hair in small curls while the back was coiled into a bun. She was a benevolent and pious soul with a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts.

A smile grew on Vitus' face at the sight of his nurturing mother and his cheeks began to blush bright red at the sight of his beautiful sister-in-law. "Ah, evening mother, good evening Appia," he said as he approached his family with open arms.

His mother hugged her son and kissed his rosy cheeks. Upon closer inspection of her younger son she back away filled with surprise.

"Vitus! You are absolutely filthy!" she exclaimed.

"Well thus is the result of a hard day's training," Vitus explained to his doting mother.

"Yes well, a warm bath can solve the problem of 'a hard day's training'," Octavia replied with smile.

"When the time comes for me to go out in battle, such luxuries would be far removed from thought," Vitus countered.

"Not as far removed as one might think," Antonius joked as he walked behind them, "Such luxuries is a common soldier's paradise after a hard fought campaign."

"Excuse myself Captain," Appia politely spoke up to Antonius, "But why is Vitus training like a legionary on foot? Doesn't his purpose lie more on being on the horse rather on his feet?"

"Very astute _Domina_; indeed young Vitus here will be in the heavy cavalry, but a General should be prepared for anything that comes across. And sometimes, a General will need to lead on foot."

"That is why father has also trained me in the spear, the shield, and bow; to make me a better soldier," Vitus added as he dusted his tunic off.

"Well I believe that the Gods are making you into a fine warrior Vitus," Appia smiled as she gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

Vitus started blushing harder as he stared into her flawless face, "Y-Y-Yes! Thanks to Father's help!" he began to stutter.

"Words bring such reminder, Antonius when will my husband arrive?" Octavia asked the Captain.

"The General should be back within the hour haste from constructing a watchtower at the border. I have lookout for when the General retu—"

A Numidian slave quickly approached the aristocratic family and bowed his head towards them, "Apologies _Domina_, I bring word that _Dominus_ has just returned to the palace."

"What? He enters the city and no one informs me?!" Antonius snapped at the messenger.

"Quickly Vitus you must be presentable for your father," Octavia said as she licked her thumbs and tried to clean up Vitus' hair. Vitus quickly swatted his mother's hand away.

"Mother, I am a man now, I can clean myself. And father will not mind if I am covered with dirt and sweat."

The grand palace doors began to cracked open and there entered the Julii heir followed by a dozen of his ancillaries. He was in his 50's yet stood at six feet and four inches with a hard body that looked as if it was carved out of marble. His hair was a thinning black, and began to show signs of greying, along with developing wrinkles beginning to form on top of his brow. Aside from his aging face, he was a rather good looking man. He had a strong rugged jawline with a neat broad face that radiated maturity and sex appeal. This man was the famous commander of the _Legio XXVIII_, Lucius Julius the Mighty.

"A thousands apologies General!" Antonius said as he ran up to the entering general, "If word had reached my ears sooner I would have made a proper welcome for your arrival."

"Ah think nothing of it Antonius; I was only gone two weeks to set up a watchtower at the border; not quelling a rebellion. I actually appreciate entering my own city with anonymity every now and then," Lucius laughed as he patted his loyal Captain on his shoulder as he passed by him.

Lucius' eyes were fixated on his family. As he walked closer to them, he extended both arms out and ran to hug them. His wife, Octavia, was the first to reach his arms and the couple engaged in a long embrace.

"Seeing you come back lifts heart," Octavia whispered as she gave him a tender kiss.

"Ah Octavia, it was only two weeks."

"Yes, but it was a **lonely** two weeks Lucius," she whispered sultrily in his ear.

Lucius began to chuckle, "Then keep thighs moist for ten minutes longer and see loneliness fade into the wind back in our bedchambers."

Octavia giggled like the young girl she was when she had first laid eyes on Lucius when he was younger. The mature couple began exchanging tongue filled kisses as Lucius' hands fell to grasp her tight, firm rear end. The tender, intimate moment was finally broken up by young Vitus clearing his throat, disgusted at the sight of his parents kissing like young lovers.

Lucius broke away from his wife and turned his attention to his younger son. A smile began to grow on Lucius' face so large that his own cheeks began to hurt. He broke out into a hearty laugh and hugged his son and picked him up into the air and swung him around in a happy embrace.

"My son is finally a man!" the giant father said as he crushed his son in his arms. Vitus could only gasp for air as he was being held in mid-air with his feet dangling while kicking his father to let go of him. The happy father finally let his son down and allowed him to get his breath.

"I fear I may not be a man much longer if I receive such embrace again," Vitus joked as he patted his father on his shoulder.

Lucius' jubilant smile slowly turned into a frown. He placed both hands on Vitus' small shoulders and looked Vitus deep in the eye, "Vitus, I offer my humblest apologies for missing your donning of the _toga virilis_," Lucius sadly apologized to his son, "You must understand, I had to construct the watchtower to guard Ales—"

"Be at peace father," Vitus interrupted him, "For I do not hold any qualms against your actions. Your actions were to ensure the safety of this city, and to us, your family. I am just glad that you came back safely to us," Vitus said with the sincerest of smiles.

Vitus' selfless words brought an even bigger smile on Lucius' face. He patted his son on the back and kissed his forehead.

"Vitus, don't you want to tell your father the gifts that you received?" Octavia eagerly suggested.

"Of course mother! Father, I received many trinkets of gold and silver throughout the Republic. But the best that was given me to was a large bag of coin from Uncle Decius. Father, guess the amount?"

"For you? 20, 30 denarii?" his father asked seemingly humoring Vitus.

Vitus smiled hard at the thought of his father's reaction, "100 denarii! Father, Uncle gave me 100 denarii!"

"100 . . . he gave you 100 denarii?" Lucius asked in total disbelief. _By the Gods, my brother is more generous than I remember_, Lucius thought to himself. Lucius broke out of his thoughts and laughed with his son on the extraordinary gift he received, "That is a lot of coin Vitus; I hope that you will spend it wisely."

"Such gain of wealth at an early age is a sign that the Gods will bless you with fortune throughout your life," Appia prophesied to her brother-in-law.

"And the gifts from the Gods will never cease to flow! Be prepared tomorrow, for my gift arrives for you," Lucius added.

"I indeed hope that another gift is prepared to arrive tomorrow," Appia mentioned to her father-in-law, "For it is Proculus' birthday tomorrow."

"That is right father, brother turns 21 tomorrow!"

"Words do ring true," Lucius said as he ran his hand through his thinning hair, "Both of my sons will receive extraordinary gifts tomorrow around noon. Appia, where is Proculus anyway?"

"I do not know, I woke up with him in the early morning but I have not seen him after."

"Now that I remember, I have not seen him either," Octavia added.

"As have I," Vitus added as well.

"Proculus was not present at personal training with the sword with young Vitus," Antonius muttered in a low spiteful tone.

"Hmm, did he take his body slave with him?" Lucius asked his family.

"No, I saw Euphatos in Proculus' bedchambers not too long ago. I shall go fetch him for you father," Vitus said as he ran off. Once Vitus was gone, Lucius turned attention to his Tribune.

"Tell me Antonius, how does Vitus fare on foot with the sword?"

"He fares better than most legionaries, he has a keen eye for minute details, much less stubborn than a recruit, and follows orders to the letter, a little bit too well I might add," chuckled Antonius.

"Such signs of maturity in an early age is another a sign from the Gods that young Vitus will grow to do great things," Appia giggled.

"Well he is a man now, fitting his mature nature," Octavia smiled proudly.

"A trait that Proculus should be accustomed to by now," Lucius bitterly remarked about his oldest son.

The smiles of Octavia and Appia quickly faded after Lucius' remark. They both stared at him in disbelief in how he addressed his son.

"Lucius—" Octavia tried to say.

"No Octavia," Lucius snapped as he cut her off, "It is known among us that Proculus has no motivation, no ambition for elevation in this life! For such complacency, he has cast out maturity in favor of acting like a child."

"Because the Gods have not provided proper opportunity," Appia mentioned with a smile in the defense of her husband.

"He has received many opportunities and yet has embarrassed himself and has squandered them all the same. I cannot foresee the Gods giving him another chance."

"Lucius, he is our son!" Octavia yelled at her husband.

"And so is Vitus, yet Vitus' has accomplished twice as much when Proculus was just 16."

Appia backed away in shock from the disappointed father. "How can you clearly favor one son over the other?" Appia asked as if she was the one whom the insult was hurled at.

"It must be easy when one protrudes around the city like a bastardized drunkard," Antonius snarked under his breath.

Both Lucius and Octavia glared at the grinning Tribune and condemning him with their eyes at his unneeded and rude comment. Antonius dropped the grin and bowed his head and looked at the floor, "Apologies."

At that moment, Vitus came running in the room with Proculus' body slave Euphatos by his side.

"Mother, Father! Most troubling news! I cannot find the coin that I received from Uncle!" Vitus cried out.

"What? Are you sure Vitus? Did you misplace it?" his concerned mother asked.

"I am sure that I did not mother!" Vitus said as he ran his hands through his hair as he paced back and forward, "One could never misplace that sum of coin!"

"Wait . . . Euphatos, where is Proculus?" Lucius asked the thin Greek slave.

"I-I . . . I do not know _Dominus_ . . ." Euphatos stuttered as he tried to avoid eye contact with the imposing general.

Lucius straightened his back and walked up to the timid slave and got in his face. Lucius' face began to contort as he studied the facial expression of the frightened slave. "I **know** that you are not bearing false tongue to me slave; if that were the case, you would find yourself crucified out in the bitter cold in the wilderness. Now find clear words or meet your end!" Lucius shouted at him.

Euphatos began to tremble, "A-A-Apologies _Dominus_ . . . but young Pro- er, _Dominus_ ordered me to not tell of his activities."

"Slave! I am his father! My position as father and patriarch of this family succeeds his title of _Dominus_. I am your true master! Not Proculus! So open mouth and speak of his whereabouts!"

"Yes _Dominus_. Apologies _Dominus_ . . . I was with him around noon, but his friends arrived to visit him for celebrations before his birthday tomorrow. I did not hear of what their plans were, but young _Dominus_ did command me to stay at the palace until he returned. I did as he commanded; but before he left, he entered into the younger _Dominus_' bedchambers and walked out with a small box."

"Wait, a box?!" The worried Vitus asked, "Did it have any peculiar markings on it, with strange colors?"

"Uh . . . Yes _Dominus_ it did, it had three exotic colors swirled on the side, and it resembled a breeze in the wind. The colors were . . . red, yellow, and a dark purple _Dominus_."

Vitus was gripped with shock and didn't move for a few moments, "What? Why?" he muttered to himself, "Mother! Father! That's my box! That's the box that I placed my 100 denarii in!" he spat in a sudden burst of anger.

"Why? Why would Proculus take from Vitus?" Octavia asked her husband.

"There has to be an explanation for this," Appia spoke up as she raised her arms up to calm the situation down.

"The only explanation that I would be willing to hear is from himself! Where is he?!" Lucius shouted.

"General, with knowledge of who Proculus is, I believe I know where he can be found," Antonius answered the livid general. Antonius first took a glance at the rest of the family and began to think of his words carefully.

He leaned over to Lucius and whispered his thoughts into Lucius' ear. The changing of Lucius' expressions added to the mystery to the curious family who gazing on with intent. Lucius' face changed from uncontrollable anger, to a mildly confused look, and then into a look of absolute disgust. Once Antonius was done whispering his opinions; Lucius walked a few feet away from the group and stared out the palace balcony. He sighed heavily and buried his face into his palm.

"Knowing my fool of a son, you are probably right Antonius; he is most likely there," Lucius sighed again with shame in his voice.

"Where? Where is Proculus?" Octavia asked her embarrassed husband.

"I will reveal location once I have returned back with Proculus in hand," Lucius answered his wife as he made his way to exit the palace.

"I shall accompany you in your search General," Antonius said as he followed his general.

"No Antonius, you must remain with the legion."

"There will be no need General, I already instructed _Primus Pilus_ Cossutius to proceed with afternoon training for the legion in case of our absence. Besides, I know the quickest route for the place we seek."

"Very well, your assistance is appreciated."

The two then took their leave and swiftly mounted their horses and rode out to find the troublesome Proculus; leaving a concerned mother, a worried yet hopeful young wife, and a betrayed bother at the palace.

* * *

The sun had fallen into the earth and the crescent moon has risen into the black sky when Lucius and Antonius arrived at their destination. The sight of the godforsaken place made Lucius bury his face one again in his hands.

"Gods, help my son," mumbled the distraught Lucius as he ran his hand through his hair.

"Well General, there are . . . worse places he could be in that are filled with those of lesser repute," Antonius mentioned trying to lighten the mood.

"If that is your attempt at a jest, than it is of poor standing, Captain," Lucius slowly sneered.

"Apologies General."

The two Roman commanders dismounted from their horses and gazed upon the only whorehouse in Alesia. They watched as the prostitutes in a drunken stupor bare their breasts to entice the men that pass by. They noticed how one fat drunk patron walked out naked while singing tales of how his penis was the envy of the Republic. Lucius one again sighed heavily and buried his face into his palm. Out of all the places for a governor's eldest son to be, it had to be a whorehouse.

"Let us be done with this," Lucius tiredly sighed.

The two men entered the whorehouse and were immediately taken by the debauchery. The building was filled with the stench of sweat, wine, urine, vomit, and the musty smell of sex. Strings of screams and moans of the prostitutes rang throughout the building. Whores having their senses stripped away as men copulated with them in every position imaginable. Fluids of every kind was soaring through the air, Lucius even stepped in a slick of strange fluids that stuck to his boot. _Out of all the places, Proculus had to be here_ Lucius thought to himself.

As the two waited by the door examining the depravity of the place, the strange withered owner of the whorehouse, Salvinius, walked up to the two men extending greetings for Antonius.

"Ah, gold ol' Antonius," the owner laughed as he extended his hand to shake, "You come back again? Well, Seppia is busy upstairs with a few Gauls but she'll be done soon. Tell me, of what whore can please you today?"

"I come here not for pleasure Salvinius, but I came to find someone, of grave importance," Antonius emphasized as he pointed to the irritated Lucius. The sight of the governor standing in his whorehouse paralyzed the owner in fear.

"G-Governor! Apologies Governor," Salvinius stuttered as he bowed his head, "If I had known you were coming I would have made the place dece—"

"Raise head and lift heart Salvinius," Antonius cut him off, "He does not come for any inspection. Truth to the matter, the Governor would not grace his presence in this part of Alesia if by choice." Antonius leaned into Silvanius closer and whispered into his ear, "As I have said, we come in search for someone of importance." Silvanius took the hint.

"Oh, him . . . yes, well, he is right upstairs with his friends, please follow me," he said while waving to them to follow.

Silvanius escorted the two men through the chaotic palace of pleasure. As they made their way up the steps, Lucius took note of the numerous empty wine jugs and cups; and how the patrons seemed to be wasting their wine as if it was nothing by spilling them on the whores' breast and licking the spilled wine off their skins.

"I see that you have . . . an abundance of wine to give to your deprived patrons," Lucius stated to Silvanius in a slightly annoyed tone.

"Why yes, Proc—" Silvanius caught himself and quickly corrected it, "Er, the man you seek was most generous upon arrival. Spilling words of how tonight was the eve of his birthday and how he wanted to entreat everyone to free wine. He paid me handsomely of course."

"And just how much wine did he pay for to entice everyone?" Lucius asked as he dragged on the question, seemingly to hear the answer that was quite evident to him.

"Oh, I say about 100 denarii worth of wine."

Lucius and Antonius exchanged glares of disgust at the thought of Proculus stealing his brother's money to pay for wine and whores. Lucius wrapped his hand around the grip of his sword and clenched it with seething anger. He was ready to beat Proculus senseless when he found him.

When they arrived on the second floor, Lucius was shocked to find that the second floor was even more depraved than the first floor. As they passed the different rooms, Lucius passed by a number of bizarre sexual acts that he wished he had never seen.

One room had a male whore on his knees sucking a pudgy old man's penis, while the old man was being penetrated from behind by a quite homely frail woman with a large dildo. Another room had six men pinning down a woman and filling up every single orifice of her body with their seed. And in another room; there was a man who was on his back having his anus licked and suck by one woman, while a second woman sat on the man's face and was having her anus pleasured as well by the man, and a third woman was stroking the man's penis violently as she licked the dirt and sweat from beneath the man's toes.

"I bet you won't be eating your nightly meal tonight General," Antonius joked with a hidden grin at another attempt to break the mood. Lucius was too disturbed by the debauchery to respond.

Salvinius stopped the two men in front of the last room that was veiled by a bright crimson curtain. Sounds of a woman moaning in pleasure and the giggling of men came from the inside of the curtain.

"This is the room he and his friends took," Salvinius presented to the two men. Antonius peered over his side and examined the seething Lucius. His breathing grew heavy in anger as he clenched the grip of his sword tighter. Lucius was ready to tear the throat out of Proculus if he found him in the room.

Lucius exhaled his vat of anger and slowly began to calm down. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a pouch filled with denarii and tossed it towards Salvinius.

"Gratitude for your assistance dear Salvinius. Now leave us be, and take coin to silence gossiping tongues of you and your whores on my son's presence in this immoral establishment," the governor coldly ordered as his eyes were fixated on the flowing red curtain.

"Your will Governor," Salvinius said as he turned away with a smile while counting the coins in the pouch.

The two men observed the room in complete silence for a full minute, mildly listening to the sounds of intense sex exuding from the room.

"Are you readying General?" Antonius asked.

"I am," Lucius replied as he walked toward the room and brushed the curtain aside.

Inside of the room were four men and three prostitutes. Three of the men sat down next to each other as the two prostitutes were giggling with them and began to pour red wine into their cups. The other man was naked and was busy having sex on the table with the prostitute to join in his friend's laughter. The woman was sitting on top of the edge of the table with legs wrapped around the man's thrusting yet sweaty body. With each stroke of his hips, the woman's nails ran deeper into the man's back as her moans turned into shrieks of pleasure.

The man himself was 20 years of age and had a strong build. Every single muscle on his body was perfectly tone and chiseled with no excess fat on his body. He stood at six feet and two inches with short straight auburn hair and a lightly trimmed beard stubble with a strong, handsome jawline. He was the son of Lucius Julius and Octavia, and the husband of Appia; he was Proculus Julius.

Lucius' and Antonius' eyes remained fixated on the young troublemaker as he pumped his hips harder into the moaning whore. Antonius mouth dropped, Lucius began gritting his teeth. After taking another a swig of wine, one of Proculus' friends, Tatumius, finally noticed that Proculus' father was standing right behind the thrusting man. Tatumius' was gripped in so much fear that he couldn't speak. All he could do was alert his two other friends, and as they turned around, they too were paralyzed with fear. But Proculus remained focus on his attempt to reach a climax inside the prostitute.

"Oh you fuck like the Gods!" the whore moaned to Proculus as her nails dug deeper into his back.

"A fine jest," Proculus grunted as he continued to pump his hips, "I am a better lover than the Gods themselves!"

"Uh, Proculus, I believe you should stop," Tatumius warned Proculus while his eyes were still upon the furious Lucius.

"Nonsense, I am going to finish in about 30 more strokes!" Proculus snorted without turning his head around.

"Proculus, you have someone very important that wants to break words with you!" Proculus' second friend said.

"He can wait until I finish!" Proculus shouted as his tempo increased.

"Proculus! Please stop fucking the whore and turn around!" The third friend insisted.

"I don't care if fucking Jupiter himself was behind me! I would see him dead if he dares to interrupt me!" Proculus blasphemed as he was on the verge of climax.

"Then turn around and see if you can best your father!" Lucius snapped in a furious bellowing voice.

Proculus' rapid pace thrusting stopped in a blink of an eye. The sound of his father's voice caused his heart to sink to his stomach. The floor felt like it fell out from underneath his feet. The moment felt unreal, why would his father be here? How did he know that Proculus was there? Was that even his voice? Hundreds of thoughts of doubt about reality raced throughout Proculus' head in only a few seconds.

"What are you doing here Proculus?!" Lucius shouted at the frozen Proculus.

The sudden shout by his father surprised Proculus so much that he climaxed within the prostitute and released his seed inside her without him realizing. Proculus pulled out of the woman and spun around to see that both his father and Antonius were right in front of him, glaring him down with condemning eyes.

"Father! I-I-I . . . I can explain! I j-j-just—" Proculus stammered as he tried to conjure up any excuse that could justify his actions. But unfortunately for Proculus, he made a grave error.

When Proculus wildly pulled out of the prostitute, his seed was still shooting out when he pulled out. As he spun around to face his father and Antonius, his seed began to fly throughout the air; landing on the foot of Lucius, while a majority of Proculus' seed landed on Antonius thigh and on the back of his left hand. Needless to say, the situation had taken a turn for the worse.

Antonius screamed in horror as the white fluid landed on the back of his hand. He backed away from Proculus, still screaming in disgust, and madly shook his hand to fling Proculus' seed off his hand. Lucius just stood there and examined his own son's semen staining his foot. He brought his head up; and began breathing heavily with his mouth closed in anger and scowled his son to shame with crazed eyes.

Before Proculus could utter a word to apologize; Antonius, possessed with rage, walked up towards Proculus and drew his right arm back, and delivered a mighty right hook towards Proculus' face. The punch caused Proculus to fall backwards and to bang his head against the edge of the table, knocking the young man out cold.

His friends and the whores sat their speechless at the sight of the governor's son lying unconscious and naked in a puddle of wine. Lucius turned his stare upon the six petrified onlookers and slowly growled with hate at them, "If anyone here breaks words of gossip of what has just happened; you all will be exiled. Now leave."

All six scurried out of the room like rabbits being hunted for sport. Antonius stood over Proculus' unconscious body and shook his head in disappointment.

"Humblest apologies General," Antonius sincerely apologized to Lucius, "I-I, I just lost control when his—"

"Relax Antonius," Lucius said as he silence his Captain with a waved hand, "The fault does not lie with you, but this drunken fool that overstepped his position."

Lucius knelt down next to his son's sleeping naked body and gazed on in shame of his son's drunken stupor. Lucius once again buried his face into his hand and sighed in disappointment.

"What am I going to do with this boy Antonius?" Lucius asked.

". . . What should be told to his wife?" Antonius asked his concerned general.

"We tell her anything that does not pertain to this unholy establishment. She is the daughter of Consul Maxentius of the Senate. If she knows of his infidelity, his reputation could plummet and ruin all chances for position in the Senate." Lucius removed his hand and stared at Antonius with serious eyes, "I will not allow that to happen."

"Of course General."

"Although it pains heart to see son so immoral; I . . . I still have some hope for him," Lucius said as he cradled his son's head, "But take note Antonius, this is the last time that this will happen. Things are going to change."

* * *

**Now how many of us have been caught doing something stupid by our parents? I know that I have, many of times. Anyway thank you for reading and if you are confused with the dialogue in the story; I am using the dialogue based off the Latin dialogue from the Starz series Spartacus. I love the show in every way especially how they would not speak conventionally in English or use conventional grammar; which kind of makes sense to me since the Romans most likely spoke in a different way than people who speak English would. If you have not seen the Spartacus series, than you should. Please leave reviews, I would love to hear your thoughts, especially if you think the dialogue is awkward or not.**

**Thank you all!**


	3. In the Shadow

**Note from Kanuro5: **This is the long chapter of doom. I'm sorry if it's a little long but it's all for the sake of drama and characterization. I'll try to keep my chapters much short from now on. Hope you enjoy it!**  
**

**Warning! **This chapter will have strong language and some mild violence.

* * *

_**II**_

The last ray of sunbeams from midday shined through the curtains of Proculus' bedchambers and hit him in his closed sleeping eyes. He instinctively began to toss and turn in his bed until he rolled out of his bed and hit the floor like a falling tree.

As his eyes began to crack open, he began to groan and grunt as he groggily climbed back onto his bed. He sat up on his bed and slowly stretched out his arms and back.

At the peak of his stretch, Proculus' head began to throb as if it had been split in half by a sword. Proculus grabbed his throbbing head and noticed that his left eye wouldn't open.

He tried to open his eye by using the muscles in his eyelid, but to no avail. He then used his fingers to pry open his eye, but was met with pain and sensitivity every time he touched his eye. On top of the splitting headache, a sensitive eye, a nauseous stomach, he could remember very little of last night.

"What happened to me last night?" he muttered to himself while clasping his head in a futile attempt to nullify the pain in his head.

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed out in strong pain. He noticed that his breath smelled musty; a combination of morning breath, sour wine, and a little bit of spoiled food. Proculus decided it would be best to wash his mouth; and what could be better than to wash one's mouth than with wine.

"Euphatos, wine," Proculus called for his body slave while extending his hand out waiting for a cup of wine. But no cup was delivered to his hand.

"Euphatos, wine!" Proculus shouted louder with his hand still out. Proculus sat on the edge of his bed and refused to turn around until he received a cup.

Proculus heard footsteps behind him and the pouring of liquid into a cup. A filled cup was placed in Proculus' hand and Proculus took a careful sip of the cup. Once the first few drops touched his tongue, he spat it out and examined the cup and realized that it was filled with water.

"Damn you Euphatos! I requested wine, not water! Where is the wine?!" Proculus asked as he threw the cup of water on the floor.

"Your belly contains the sum," Lucius voice rang out from behind.

Proculus casually turned around and noticed his father was behind him holding a jug of water glaring at his hung-over son in disappointment.

"Oh, morning father," Proculus said with an honest smile.

"Morning? I ask for a son and the Gods give me a comedian," Lucius laughed darkly as he raised his head to the ceiling.

"Comedian? What jest did I make?" Proculus asked as he raised his eyebrow on his good eye.

"That it is already midday and you rise late!" Lucius snapped at him. "Take jug and drink water for the entire day! You will no longer be presented wine in this house!"

"But father!" Proculus argued as he bolted up but quickly stumbled as he tried to get his footing. His father extended his arm and caught Proculus and pushed him back on the bed.

"Wine has become your weakness and you will be parted from it!" Lucius condemned. "Your absent of footing is evident from last night's immorality!"

"What brings you to say such things?" Proculus genuinely asked.

"You have no memory of last night? This is what your fancy for drink has cost you!"

It then dawned on Proculus of what happened last night. He remembered his friends coming over, he remembered the stealing of his brother's money, he remembered the whorehouse, he remembered the whore he slept with, and then he remembered his father's presence. Upon remembering everything, Proculus' eyes widen and he began to suck his teeth in embarrassment.

Lucius read his facial expressions like a map, "So memory finally fills empty skull huh?" Lucius sarcastically asked his worrying son. "So Proculus, since you finally found memory, I am going to ask you questions and as the Gods as my witnesses you will answer them with honesty. Let us begin from the beginning of the day prior; why did you miss morning and midday training with Antonius?"

". . . Because Antonius bears no love for me, he hates me in favor of Vitus," Proculus scoffed.

"He appreciates a man that holds the value of initiative and effort close to their heart; qualities that Vitus holds more dearly than you!" Lucius explained. "That does not excuse why you avoided training with the sword."

"Because I have no need for it father. I received my training from you five years ago."

"So you grow complacent in training because your father is a general?!" Lucius asked in an uproar.

"Exactly, why should I receive menial training from a tribune whilst I can receive better from a general? I have been practicing every now and then, but I do not draw on assistance from lowly Antonius."

Lucius restrained his desire to lunge forward to choke his son out in anger for belittling his loyal captain. He realized he had to get back to training his legion and could not waste time on one stupid answer his son gave. He inhaled his anger and frustration and exhaled it out and began to calm down. He reluctantly moved on to the next question. "Next, why did your mind believe it was right to steal your own brother's coin?"

"I, uh . . . I," Proculus uncomfortably stammered, "My intentions were clouded at the time, and I cannot seize to recall my motives father," Proculus lied with a straight face. He knew why he stole Vitus' denarii, but could not think of a better answer. If he was honest to his father that he stole it out of spite, Proculus knew that his father would punch him in his face.

"You cannot recall your actions for stealing a purse that large?" his father asked him with an incredulous look.

"Apologies father, but it seems I cannot," Lucius said as he attempted to make the sincerest face he has ever made.

Lucius quietly studied Proculus' face and for the first time since Lucius could remember; he was not able to discern whether Proculus was telling the truth or lying. Lucius sighed aloud and decided to brush the question off and proceed to the next question. "In your celebration prior to your day of birth, why did you choose a whorehouse to celebrate and spend your brother's coin?"

"I did not choose the whorehouse, Tatumius did," Proculus said telling the truth to his father, "He wanted to celebrate my birthday and he swayed the rest of our friends to join."

"Alright," Lucius said satisfied with the truth behind the question. He then moved on to the last and the most serious of his questions.

"Last question Proculus . . ." Proculus silently sighed in relief at hearing the last of his father's pestering questions, Lucius continued while gritting teeth, "Why did I find you lowering yourself and **your wife** by fucking a filthy whore?"

Proculus began to laugh as he drank from the jug of water. "That?" he asked in complete surprise while still laughing, "That meant nothing!"

"It meant nothing? Oh thank the Gods that such disgraceful act meant nothing," Lucius laughed sarcastically.

"By truth of my words, it meant nothing father," Proculus said as he continued to laugh.

"Your act may hold absent value to you but that is because you act like a child unable to wipe away his own shit!" Lucius snapped. Proculus stopped laughing. Lucius walked closer to Proculus and looked him deep in the eye, "Do you know who your wife is?"

"She is Appia of the Julii, my wife, my love, the beating of my heart and the Venus of the Republic," Proculus seriously stated.

"She is the daughter to Caius Maxentius the Consul of the Senate!" Lucius hissed.

"And here we come in full circle!" Proculus said as he rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air. "You only have eyes for her as a sort of object to gain political favor for our family!"

"Because that can be a powerful asset for our family!" Lucius yelled at Proculus.

"So our family's position takes precedence over my happiness?" Proculus laughed bitterly. "I am fortunate that I am married to the woman I love, but it was only made so because of your eagerness for our, our . . . our clan to have someone in the senate!"

"You show example of what you view as love? By fucking a whore at a deprived establishment?!"

"If a place of whores and wine are viewed as 'deprived' by the governor, than why is the building still standing?"

"It was one of the only ways to secure peace with the plebeians," Lucius explained, "It gives them menial entertainment and distraction, whilst making a profit for taxation."

"Oh, so the center of evil only exists to make some extra coin?!" Proculus laughed darkly as he stood up to drink from the jug of water.

"You know not of what you speak! And do not misdirect question, why were you with that whore?"

Proculus sighed and placed the jug down and looked at his angry father with earnest eyes, "Because father, my spirit is strong; but my flesh is weak to the pleasures of a woman. Appia . . . it is her time of the month. She had her monthly flow of blood and I was not in spirit to lie with my wife when blood seeps from between her thighs like a stuck pig.

"So upon arrival at the 'deprived' house of whores; I choose to relieve my lustful urges until bleeding from Appia ceased."

"So that's why? You risk discovery and scandal because of your wife's flow of blood?" Lucius asked disgustedly upon learning of his son's act. "And you claim you love her."

"I do love her!" Proculus declared, "I do love her! I did not commit any infidelity against her, I just used a whore's loose body to relieve daily . . . constraints. There were no feelings or emotions between me and the whore. I would gladly lie with Appia every day; only if she is absent blood. I have committed no crime of infidelity!

Lucius placed his face into his hands and shook his head disapprovingly. "Where did I go wrong with you," Lucius sighed to himself. "Why couldn't you be more like your brother?"

The question caused for surge of anger to course through Proculus' body. He slumped his head and bit his bottom lip in discontent. For his own father to compare him to his younger brother was one of the worse insults that he could endure.

"Are we quite done father?!" Proculus asked in an annoyed tone as he casually leaned against the wall.

"Yes, yes we're done here," Lucius growled as he tried to hold everything back from smacking his rude son in the mouth.

"Good, around what time should the guest arrive for my celebration father?"

"There will be no celebration," Lucius slightly grin almost savoring the surprise for his son.

Proculus turned his head in an instant, "What? But it's my birthday today!"

"After what occurred the previous night, you are not ready to hold a celebration in this house."

"But father! I am a man and I can make a—"

"Then as a man, cease your petty groveling!" Lucius barked as he advanced closer to Proculus and got a closer look at Proculus' eyes, "Besides, I don't think our guests would care to enjoy the spectacle of your eye."

"What is wrong with it?" Proculus asked as a twinge of fear could be heard in his voice as he felt his sensitive eye.

Lucius didn't say a word. He reached for a small hand mirror and handed it over to Proculus. Proculus looked at the mirror and recoiled in horror. Proculus looked at the mirror one more time, and to his dismay, it was no illusion; he had a large swollen left black eye.

The face that made many Roman girls swoon and the Roman women to wet their thighs in the past was now horribly disfigured. Proculus couldn't utter a word. His gaze was fixated into the mirror with his jaw dropped.

"You were about to eject your seed into the whore last night when you turned around to find me and Antonius behind you. But in your haste, you spilled your seed on the both of us, and Antonius gave you the blackened eye with his hand out in justified anger," Lucius explained seemingly reading Proculus' mind of how he came to have a black eye.

"It's . . . it's horrible," Proculus whispered to himself at the sight of his eye.

"Strike bruised eye from concern and see yourself appropriately dressed for training," Lucius commanded as he turned to leave.

"Training?" Proculus checked outside the window and noticed the forming of rain clouds, "But it is going to rain."

"Are you really afraid of the rain?" Lucius asked his son in disbelief. "I do not care if fucking fire falls from the heavens! You will train with the rest of the legion! Now see yourself dressed in your armor with haste and take your sword! I await in the foyer for you."

"Yes father . . . one last thing. Appia? Did you break words with her about me?" Proculus asked out in concern.

"She took note of your bruised eye yet I did not have her sleep in your bedchambers. I told her nothing of what you did last night and I sent her to the market for today. Now dress yourself and let us be off. The Twenty-Eighth is almost done with midday meal."

As Lucius left the room, Euphatos scurried in and quickly dressed the groggy son in his bronze muscle-plated armor. Euphatos handed Proculus his sword that was passed down to his father when Proculus came of age. Proculus studied the Gladius and reflected on his early experiences with his father.

He remembered a happier time with his father; how when he was younger he would "play war" with his father by dueling each other with wooden sticks. His father would joke and laugh with his son and chase him around the villa all day until they both collapsed from exhaustion and fun. But those times were long gone and now he was an embarrassment to his father while his brother was the favorite. Times have changed indeed.

* * *

Training in the army barracks has momentarily ceased. Most of the Twenty-Eighth had broken for lunch and rest. The legionaries had momentarily shed their armor and helmets and sat down to "enjoy" their meal of lamb stew and bread.

But amongst the break from training in the legion; Vitus was still training one-on-one with Tribune Antonius. The two began to train amongst the First Cohort, the most senior and prestigious cohort of a legion. The crack troops of the First Cohort sat at tables and enjoyed their food as they joked and watched at the sparring between the General's son and their Captain.

The most senior centurion of the legion and the commander of the First Cohort, _Primus Pilus_ Cossutius stood back and leaned against a wall stroking his beard watching the young Roman trying to best the Tribune. Centurion Galerius of the 2nd Century of the First Cohort casually approached the senior centurion and they both stood back and watched Vitus.

"Wow, the boy is approving faster than expected," Galerius commented as he took a bite from an apple.

"Thanks to the tutelage of Antonius. Note Vitus' stance every time he thrust his sword he uses his speed to strike and to recover back into a defensive stance, the boy has impeccable form," Cossutius pointed out.

"How well do you think he would command our legion if permitted?"

"Just as well as his father . . . maybe even better; time will tell if he proves me right."

Antonius and Vitus were once again equipped with wooden practice swords, even though Vitus requested real swords. After their bout, both men once again took position in front of each other.

Antonius struck first as he unleashed a barrage of strong attacks pushing Vitus back on the defense. After a clash and lock of swords, Antonius smirked at the struggling Vitus and kicked him square in his chest, knocking Vitus flat on his back.

Vitus rolled off his back and decided it was time to put yesterday's advice to use. He took the stance of a runner's starting position before the race. He used all of his energy to push off his feet and dashed towards Antonius at a breakneck speed.

Vitus' speed caught Antonius off-guard and now Vitus was on the offensive. Vitus slashed, hacked, and thrust at Antonius with ferocious speed yet with certain degrees of control. He picked his targets of the body and struck with pinpoint accuracy, if it wasn't for Antonius' years of combat experience, he probably would have been hit by the first strike.

Vitus got in close to Antonius and was looking to end it. Anxious to get Vitus to back up off of him, Antonius lunged wildly with his sword and nicked Vitus' on his right side. Vitus simply sidestepped to his left and with his free left hand, Vitus caught Antonius' sword hand at his wrist. Vitus spun out to the left while still holding on to Antonius hand and elbowed him in the back of his head. In the same motion, Vitus swung his leg out into Antonius and made Antonius trip over his leg. As Antonius was falling to earth, Vitus snatched Antonius' wooden sword from his hand.

Antonius landed on his back with a painful thud. With both wooden swords in hand, Vitus walked over to the beaten captain and placed one sword against his throat and the second sword against the captain's nose.

Vitus began panting softly and grinned so hard that his cheeks felt like bursting, "Now I know that my legendary father has told you to never swing wildly, am I right?"

The whole area fell silent. The entire First Cohort was gripped with silence at the sight of their defeated captain. Everyone present had stopped talking, they stopped joking, and they had even stopped eating. Cossutius rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Galerius even dropped his apple he was eating with mouth agape.

A smile grew on Antonius' face as he began to nod his head in approval at the victorious Vitus.

"That's my son!" Lucius laughed with pride as he entered the barracks, "With time he may even rival Aeneas or even Prince Hector himself!"

At the sight of their general, the entire cohort stood at attention and greeted their general with proud smiles as if a son would greet his loving father as he returns home. The five centurions of the 1st Cohort approached their general and shook his hand as they greeted him. But then Proculus came out from behind the general and the smiles of everyone present evaporated into disbelief. Disbelief that the "honorable son" would "grace" them with his presence.

The smile on Vitus' face faded into a furious scowl at the sight of his traitorous brother. He removed the wooden swords from Antonius' face and helped him up while his gaze still remained fixated on his brother. Proculus met his brother's scowl and looked away from him with a twinge of shame and embarrassment.

Lucius pulled Proculus off to the side and leaned into him, "You have wronged your brother and you **will** make apologies for your grievous actions, now!" he ordered.

Lucius ordered the First Cohort to end their midday meal and to assemble on the training grounds. The legionaries left the meal hall and headed off to the training grounds leaving Proculus and Vitus alone in the meal hall.

Proculus slowly approached his younger brother, turning his head to the left so that his black eye would not be as noticeable. But Vitus noticed Proculus' bruised eye and let out a haunting laugh.

"What gives you right to laugh?" Proculus asked in an annoyed tone.

"That a thief gets his proper reward," Vitus continued to laugh.

"I know not of what you speak," Proculus lied as his eyes turned to the ground.

"Oh do not break false tongue. Antonius explained in marvelous detail how he bruised your eye for what you did in the house of whores," Vitus said as a cocky smile grew on his face.

"You heard?" Proculus sighed.

"If 100 denarii of mine vanishes, then I believe I have the right to know of what purpose it was spent upon," Vitus said with a serious face.

"Dear brother," Proculus said as he placed his arm around Vitus' shoulders attempting to change the subject as quickly as possible, "The past cannot be changed. So let us turn eye towards horizon and forget of past transgressions."

"I would find that most appreciative, after; you commence apologies for the theft of my coin."

"Apologies Vitus," Proculus said as he looked him in the eye. Yet Vitus could hear the insincerity in Proculus' voice.

Vitus squinted his eyes in confusion at his brother and brushed Proculus' arm off of him, "Is that it? Is that what this is to you?"

"What is brother?"

"Is this a jest for your amusement for me to be a fool?" Vitus asked as he raised his voice.

"Oh if this was a jest, you would not know it," Proculus laughed under his breath.

"I have long known when you attempt to speak a lie, especially to me."

"What I say to you is neither a lie nor a jest."

"That is a lie in of itself!" Vitus scoffed as he rolled his eyes.

"I have given you an apology, and as such my time with you is done brother," Proculus sneered as he turned around to leave.

"You are such a disgrace to the Julii!" Vitus shouted after Proculus. Proculus stopped.

"Know your place as the younger brother!" Proculus snapped as he turned around.

"No! Learn your place as eldest son! You are entitled with responsibilities and noble callings but yet squander it all on wine and whores!" Vitus yelled as he advanced closer to his brother's face.

"What do you speak of?" Proculus asked as his face contorted in confusion.

"Did you believe your actions were hidden from me?" Vitus laughed as he flung his hands into the air. "I have been well aware that you have visited establishments of less than questionable woman around the ides of each month starting a year ago. That would mean . . . by the Gods brother, you would go to lie with women during Appia's . . . monthly flow?" Vitus asked as he blushed in embarrassment.

"I do, and yet you stand me at fault for my wife's body?"

"I stand you at fault for betraying a perfect woman. Appia's beauty could possibly rival Venus' herself, and her spirit is marvelous and munificent! For all the foolish acts you have committed she has been defending your honor without question! And just like in the manner how you squander your birthright, you squander her love and compassion!"

"Well who are you to command me in how to run my marriage?!" Proculus shouted as he shoved Vitus in his chest. "You have never been with a woman!"

"Only because your interference of making a fool of me in front of girls has negated the proper opportunity!" Vitus spat back as he shoved Proculus, "But I know that if I was Appia's husband, I'll treat her better than you, I would actually treat her like a goddess."

The two agitated brothers got into each other's face even though Vitus had to strain his neck upwards a little to meet his tall brother in the eye.

"You have caused much heartache for our family, especially for Father and Mother; never heeding their words, betraying their trust for carnal desires, you are pathetic," Vitus hissed.

"And you believe yourself the better? Acting like one of Father's loyal centurions at every turn for him to show you affection," Proculus half laughed as he made hand gestures to emphasis his statement. "You all but take knee to stroke his cock!"

"Don't disrespect Father in that manner!" Vitus shouted as he pointed his finger in his brother's face, "I wonder often why you treat me with such contempt whenever Father—" Vitus stopped midsentence as his eyes opened out of realization.

A self-satisfied smile crept on Vitus' face as he raised one hand and began gesturing with it as he finally spoke again, "So that's the reason."

"What do you mean?"

"You're jealous of me." Vitus' smile grew larger, "You are jealous because of Father's adoration for me over you."

"You know not of what you speak!"

"Really? For as long I can remember, I have been your target for cruel purposes! After you donned the _toga virilis_, you have been plaguing me at every step. The same time Father began to spend more time with me. I find that rather cute that you are jealous of your younger brother."

"I hold no such thing as jealousy over you, the very thought of that turns my stomach," Proculus growled. "I am his firstborn and I have the love of Father because I am the firstborn."

"So you believe yourself entitled?"

"I am entitled to everything as the eldest son! I am even entitled to inherit this damn legion!"

"You are not entitled to the legion. If Father retires, the legion will be inherited to me. The legion respects me and will follow me wherever I go! I lived with the legion for months outside the city and have grown to known the legionaries. A mutual respect is forged between me and the men of the Twenty-Eighth."

"They may hold respect for you as a 'brother' but they will respect me as their general because I am a patrician!"

"The men do not respect titles they respect leadership and courage; two traits you are absent without," Vitus snickered.

"And you believe yourself to possess these qualities?"

"I know I have them! The legion sees it in me, Antonius sees it me, and Father sees it in me."

"Well I only see a miniature jest that thinks he is a man!"

"I am a man now, and as a man; I extend my apologies to you," Vitus said as he meekly looked at his feet.

"What? What manner do you extend apologies for?" Proculus asked sincerely.

"For not being curt with you from the beginning!" Vitus snapped. "Here I stand the fool for ever believing you would make apologies and attempt to restore the grievance you have inflicted upon me with proper balance! Let me be clear with what I want; I want reimbursement for the 100 denarii you stole from me!"

"Reimbursement?" Proculus laughed, "You require reimbursement from the coin I took? Why should I do that?"

"Because you have wronged me and you need to make amends! That, and Father will make you reimburse me."

"I have nothing of worth to give you," Proculus said as he turned around to leave with an arrogant grin. "And even if I did possess something of worth, I would not hand it to you!"

"And here I stand thinking my brother is the son of our Father," Vitus scoffed. Proculus stopped.

"What did you say?" Proculus growled as he turned around with a scowl.

"If you were truly the son of my Father, then he would have taught you the value of honesty!"

"Are you touched in the head? I am his son," Proculus said as he walked back to Vitus.

"Father would have taught you the esteemed virtues of Roman citizenship if you were his son," Vitus said he began to speak louder.

"I am his son," Proculus began to shout as he walked faster.

"Do not lie to me; the way you act around the city does not portray you as a true Roman, or as the son to my father! You are an embarrassment, a simple stain on my father's name!"

"I am not, and he is my father as well!" Proculus practically yelled as he walked up into Vitus' face.

"That remains to be seen Proculus! All the help that Father, Mother, and Appia give you and you return such tender embrace by pissing in their faces! If you were his son, then Father would have taught you compassion and kindness because he would have loved you!"

"He does love me! I **am **his son!" Proculus screamed in a simmering rage.

"You are only a fool that claims such title!"

Proculus lunged forward at Vitus and began choking him with one hand.

"And you are an outcast cursed by the damn Gods to wield such wicked eyes! Never to be taken serious on this fucking earth!" Proculus screeched in Vitus face.

"At the very least the Twenty-Eighth will follow a man cursed with different eyes than one whose eye is as black as night," Vitus wheezed as he was trying to loosen Proculus' grip.

"Proculus! Vitus! You both are summoned to the training grounds!" Antonius called for them as he leaned against the exit from the mess hall. The brothers gazed in the tribune's direction and noticed his disconcerting gaze upon them. Proculus threw his younger brother in the dirt and spat on him.

"You will regret the things you have said," Proculus growled as he pointed his finger at his wheezing brother on the ground.

"No, you shall regret the day you took from me," Vitus promised, staring at his brother as he stood up from the ground and walked out first of the mess hall. As Proculus headed out the exit of the mess hall, he could hear Antonius chuckling behind him.

"What is it that you find funny?" Proculus asked as he sighed in annoyance.

"Please enlighten me, how hard is it to see with one eye?" Antonius replied with an ending chuckle.

Proculus turned around and got into Antonius' face, "How would you like one to match?" Antonius remained unimpressed by Proculus' threat.

"The day you can a land a blow on me is the day Jupiter opens the heavens and shits gold for a week," Antonius replied as he began to laugh in Proculus' face.

"Learn your place you lowly tribune!" Proculus hissed. "You speak out of turn to the general's son!"

"Oh! Oh forgive me for speaking out of turn," Antonius sarcastically said as he waved his hands in the air, "But it seems my speaking out of turn has been eclipsed by your actions as of late."

The smile on Antonius' face suddenly grew serious, he stopped leaning on the wall and was nose-to-nose with Proculus.

"I don't like you Proculus. I know you have knowledge of that. You are a weak, stupid, and spoiled man who cannot walk two steps without tripping over his feet!" Antonius slowly spat as he drove his finger into Proculus' chest for emphasis. "If you want to strike first, then do it. Just remember whose words your father will believe. Me, his trusted Tribune; or you, the constant embarrassment and pathetic excuse for a son? But first, do you not have somewhere to be right now?"

Proculus clenched his fist as hatred coursed through his veins. As much as Proculus wanted to punch Antonius in his arrogant face, he was already in enough trouble already and a fight with his father's tribune wouldn't help. He sighed out some of his pent-up anger and stormed off away from Antonius.

Still relishing his mental victory over Proculus, Antonius thought of an idea as a dark grin rose on his face.

"Why can't you be more like your brother?" Antonius asked, savoring ever little word in the sentence.

Proculus stopped once again, this time he made a low, frustrated growl loud of enough to be heard by Antonius. The growl brought a sweet, victorious smirk to the tribune's face. Proculus' fist began to tighten so much that his nails almost broke the skin of his palms. Proculus refused to turn his head to see Antonius' smiling face. He instead stomped his way out of the mess hall to join his brother on the training ground.

* * *

The training ground was located in the middle of the colossal army barracks in Alesia. It was a large square filled with dirt and sand used by the legion to conduct weapon practice and formational drills. But now the ground was being used for ceremonial purposes, as when Proculus walked onto the ground, he was greeted by the entire First Cohort dressed in full armor in parade formation surrounding the square.

In the middle of the square of the training ground was Vitus as he stood erect facing the balcony to the north which held Lucius and his dozen ancillaries, his wife Octavia, and his daughter-in-law Appia, and Lucius' aquilifer Vibius Petrosidius who was responsible for the eagle standard of the _Legio XXVIII_.

Proculus roamed around the square caught in awe at the formed First Cohort around him until he gazed at the balcony and noticed Appia motioning him to join his younger brother's side. Once Proculus was next to Vitus' side, both of the brothers gazed at each with leering glares and quickly scoffed when they broke eye contact with each other.

Tribune Antonius finally entered the training ground and made his way to the square where the brothers were standing alone. He looked out to the balcony and looked upon Lucius. Lucius nodded his head to him. Antonius peered over to _Primus Pilus_ Cossutius and nodded his head at him.

Cossutius took a few steps out of the ranks and addressed his Cohort, "First Cohort! Stand at Attention!" The sounds of the stomping of boots and the clanging of armor rang out in unison. Cossutius took a pause to examine his men standing at perfect attention, once he was satisfied he bellowed out, "First Cohort! Rest!" The men stood at ease. Cossutius nodded back at Antonius.

"On this day, Lucius Julius, General of the _Legio XXVIII_ and heir to the Julii has brought you in here in recognition of his eldest son, Proculus Julius' day of birth and for his youngest son Vitus Julius donning the _toga virilis_ and for coming into manhood," Antonius declared as he walked next to the proud brothers.

Lucius stepped up from the back of the balcony and addressed his two sons, "Proculus, Vitus, I am proud to call you my sons. Out of all of my military accomplishments, your arrival into this word has been my greatest victory.

"Vitus, your entrance into manhood began eight days ago and I have a gift worth many wonders for you; and for you as well Proculus. Through procurement of favors within the Senate and of our leader, my brother, Decius Julius; I present your gifts. All the way from the regions of Hispania, I present for you, your very own mounts; Romulus and Remus!"

At the sound of the two Roman names of legend, three men walked into the training ground leading a pair of Andalusian horses to the center of the square; one horse bigger than the other.

It was quite obvious that the bigger horse was Romulus. He was a magnificent stallion, he had a luscious dark bay coat and stood at an impressive 18 hands. He was strongly built with every defined muscle on his body exuding from his coat yet looked elegant enough to trot gracefully. The individual strands on his coat could be seen waving majestically whenever a breeze brushed off him. His mane and tail were thick and flowing and were neatly trimmed to not block his eyes. His head was large and had a broad forehead with a white star-like mark on its brow.

Remus was the smaller of the pair and a little less impressive. He had a chestnut dun coat and stood at 16 hands. He wasn't as built as Romulus but he was just as compact as his less defined muscles rippled through his body. He had an abundant and rich quality mane that ran past his eyes and had thick, bushy tails that extended to the back of his knees.

The three men portrayed the stallions around the training ground allowing everyone to watch their magnificent trots. The brothers were instantly in love with the majestic stallions.

The elder of the three men approached the brothers and spoke up so everyone could hear, "Behold the majesty and grace of Romulus and Remus! Both stallions are brothers, just like you two! Romulus is the giant that stands before you, and Remus is the humble yet glorious horse that trots next to him. Both are highly intelligent, very agile, and fiercely loyal!"

The two men reined in the horses in front of the brothers, further enticing them with their spectacular horses. Even from the balcony, Lucius could see his sons' smiles.

"For it is the day of your birth Proculus, you shall be granted Romulus. And Vitus, you shall have Remus!" Lucius said to his boys.

Proculus looked to his father seemingly asking him if this gift was really his. Lucius gently grinned at his elder son and nodded his head. Proculus stood up straight and proudly walked forward to claim his new stallion with a smile so large that it could eclipse the sun.

"Apologies father!" Vitus shouted interrupting the celebration. All eyes fell on him. "This is truly a gift of wonders; I would feel honored to express my gratitude towards you. But as you may recall, my precious purse of 100 denarii was taken from me and I properly seek reimbursement. Would you allow that I take the stallion Romulus instead; and to give Remus to my dear brother Proculus?"

Proculus' jaw dropped. "W-W-Wait, w-w-what?!" was all he could mutter in confusion.

All eyes then turned on Lucius. Lucius stood in the balcony contemplating the issue. He looked at Vitus and saw the earnest look in his eyes for the need of justice to be done. He then looked upon Proculus' stunned face. Proculus began shaking his head wildly at his father to deny Vitus of the request.

Octavia tugged on Lucius' shoulder and looked at her husband with a concerned face, wanting to know if this was the right thing to do. Lucius returned his focus back on Proculus and noticed the distress in Proculus' facial pleas and decided that it would be a fair punishment for his disgraceful elder son.

"Vitus!" Lucius bellowed from the balcony, "I recognize your plea for reimbursement and it is granted. Romulus is now yours. Proculus, you are now entitled to Remus!"

"What?!" Proculus shouted to the balcony at the top of his lungs.

Vitus stepped forward and walked to claim his new horse. As Vitus walked pasted the stunned Proculus, Vitus turned his head towards Proculus; and Vitus' contempt smile slowly transformed into a dark, sinister grin right before Proculus' eyes. It then came to Proculus; this was Vitus' revenge for his denarii being stolen.

Vitus walked up to Romulus and took a gander of his new stallion. He was astonished by Romulus' height, the stallion's 18 hand figure towered over young Vitus. His coat smelled of rich, warm, fresh, wheat barley that enveloped Vitus' nose with the most pleasant of aromas.

Vitus extended his left hand out and began to gently stroke Romulus on where his shoulder met his neck. He then moved his hand and began to stroke Romulus' neck. Vitus then slowly extended his right hand out to Romulus and gently placed his palm on his mouth. Romulus took three careful sniffs and gently licked the palm of Vitus' hand.

Romulus turned his head and faced his new owner. Their eyes met. Vitus peered into Romulus' great hazel eyes and imagined seeing into the stallion's soul. He saw the stallion as a very intelligent, loyal yet sensitive creature that was looking for a respectable rider. Vitus smiled and began to pet Romulus with more affection.

Vitus leaned into his horse and placed his head next to the giant's neck and gently whispered into his ear, "You are indeed a rare creature of beauty the likes of which I have never seen. I can tell in your eyes; you want love, care, and respect; all of which I will grant unto you. In return, you help me be all I can be; and I will always love you. I promise you. Come Romulus, we will have splendid adventures together!"

It was a touching sight for everyone there, everyone except for Proculus. The sight of Vitus taking his gift away from him absolutely infuriated Proculus. His hands began to clench violently as he slowly grinded his teeth in anger. This would not stand. Storm clouds began to gather, blackening the sky.

"Father!" Proculus shouted as he approached the balcony and stared up at his father. "I hold rights over that horse and it should be returned to me!"

"This is an act of reimbursement due to private manners," Lucius growled lowly trying to remind his son that this was due to Proculus stealing Vitus' money.

"But it is mine! I was entitled to Romulus for my birthday! He is rightfully mine!" Proculus continued to argue.

"But Father, after what occurred yesterday, this is the proper gift for me! Please father, let me keep Romulus!" Vitus told his father, gazing at him with earnest beseeching eyes.

The eyes of the training ground fell on Lucius who covered his mouth with his hands, contemplating a fair resolution.

"Father," Appia whispered into her father-in-law's ear, "This may be fair for Vitus, but the horse's original intentions were laid upon Proculus. Romulus is too big of a mount for young Vitus. Remus would be more suitable for him as planned from the beginning."

"No. This is for the compensation of taking Vitus' purse. This will teach Proculus proper lesson," Lucius stated.

"But something must be done Lucius," Octavia turned to him, "A proper and true compromise must be reached amongst our sons."

Lucius stared down at his two beleaguered sons that were starring back, begging him to take their own side. Lucius believed that giving Romulus to Vitus would teach Proculus a proper lesson, but Lucius could see that this was not going to work. Lucius searched through his mind of a compromise that would ensure that Proculus to see the error of his ways. The side of Lucius' mouth began to rise; he would handle the situation the same way warriors would.

"So the both of you dispute each other's claim over the stallion Romulus eh?" Lucius asked his sons with a smirk on his face. "Vitus, you are a man now and as such you will settle this like men in the Roman legion; by combat against each other; with steel instead of wood!"

Both Octavia and Appia performed a double-take at the suggestion of the resolution. Some legionaries of the First Cohort began to quietly gossip within the ranks, only to be silenced by Cossutius' command.

"Stipulations will be made," Lucius continued as he addressed the training ground, "To be named victor, blood of your opponent must be drawn thrice! No serious wound must be delivered and severe punishment will be meted out to the man that caused them. The prize for such contest will be for the glorious stallion Romulus! Proculus, Vitus; do you two hold any qualms about my decision?"

Proculus exchanged his glare with his brother, both men were not backing down, there long time feud has gone on too long and could not be solved by words. They both figured this was the best solution. Without breaking their glares, the brothers answered their father in unison, "None father." A fierce bolt of lightning cracked through the grey, gloomy sky, followed by the earth shattering echo of thunder.

"Antonius, Vitus is absent proper sword of his own, lend him yours," Lucius commanded.

Antonius unsheathed his sword and placed it in the hands of Vitus whose eyes were still locked on his brother. Proculus quickly unsheathed his sword and pointed it at his brother with a smirk. Antonius' rough hands patted Vitus on his shoulder and stared into the young man's eyes, "Show your arrogant brother what I taught you."

The stallions were taken out of the square and Antonius aligned himself within the First Cohort which boxed in the brothers in the training square. The brothers walked up to each other; with each footstep they took their grip began to tighten around their swords until they stood up against each other.

"Have the Gods robbed you of your senses?!" Octavia asked her husband with worry in her voice.

"No, they have finally granted me sense," Lucius replied, not allowing his eyes to move away from his sons' duel.

"You would command your sons to fight and risk injury over a horse?" Octavia asked incredulously. "They do not even wield wooden practice swords, but real steel!"

"Better to prepare them for actual battle."

"Call this off Lucius!" Octavia demanded. "I will not stand by idly and allow our sons to kill each other!"

"Then take your leave to the palace," Lucius coldly answered.

"This is not right father," Appia spoke up, "What if Proculus or Vitus end with a serious injury?"

"That will not come to pass," Lucius reassured her. "This is for their own good."

"Lucius stop this now!" Octavia shouted at her husband as she softly hit his shoulders with closed fists.

"Nothing you can say or do will sway my decision!" Lucius snapped as he turned to face his concerned wife. "I grant this exhibition so that Proculus' would learn his place by the hands of Vitus."

Octavia's jaw dropped as her hands covered her mouth. Appia took a few steps back whilst shaking her head, "Your reason behind this is for the humiliation of Proculus? To make an example out of him" she asked in horror.

"Yes. Last night has finally opened my eyes that I have been too soft on Proculus."

"What did he do last night that would make you take this course of action?" Appia begged to know.

"Nothing that concerns you," Lucius told her, "This is for Proculus' benefit to become a better Roman. His disgrace is my disgrace because I failed to raise him like a true Roman."

"Lucius, we raised him right," Octavia softly mentioned as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"No, no we did not," Lucius argued, "We failed in—I failed in my endeavors of him. Our best result was with Vitus. Proculus is not like Vitus!"

"When will you stop comparing Proculus to Vitus?" Appia asked in a pleading tone.

Lucius eyed his daughter-in-law with indifference and let out a sigh, "When Proculus finally proves himself."

With the last roar of thunder booming through the sky, a light drizzle of rain fell upon the training ground which quickly turned into a steady downpour. But even through the downpour, the stares of both men could not be broken. Proculus could see the green of Vitus' left eye glow ferociously in the rain.

"Did I not tell you that you were going to regret today?" Proculus laughed. "Now see your actions of today reap consequences. Now stand down or else find your shriveling cock wet the sand you two-eyed monstrosity."

"Are you going to bark all day like a dog, or are you going to bite?" Vitus asked with a serious face as he took his stance.

"Oh I am going indulge in this pleasure," Proculus chuckled as he took his stance, "Far more than I should."

Proculus suddenly jumped off his back foot and charged Vitus, yelling as he got closer. With all his strength, Proculus performed an overhead slash in an attempt to cleave his brother in two. But Vitus foresaw the slow and careless attack and easily took a side-step when the blade came down.

Proculus' momentum at missing his brother caused him to awkwardly stumble away from Vitus. But Proculus quickly regained his footing and charged again at Vitus, this time, wildly swing his sword horizontally trying to take off Vitus' head; yet as before Vitus was dodging his brother's attacks with relative ease instead of blocking them.

After the fifth crazed swing, Vitus began to carefully analyze Proculus attacks. His strikes were heavy but slow, instead of aiming for any part of Vitus' body, he was swinging wildly, he would overextend his attacks which would leave him off balance; in short, Proculus' form was sloppy and pitiful.

At the sight of Proculus' abysmal technique; half of the cohort silently judged Proculus poorly, one quarter of the cohort began turning their heads looking at each other wondering if Proculus was actually trying to fight correctly, while the last quarter of the cohort could be heard snickering at Proculus.

After the seventh swing, Vitus spun out of Proculus' onslaught to the left. As he was still spinning out, Vitus sliced Proculus' right shoulder. Proculus grunted loudly in pain, he grabbed his stinging shoulder with his left hand and then examined it with shocked eyes. There was blood on his hand.

"First blood has been drawn," Antonius announced to the training square.

Appia winced as she witnessed her husband clutching his wounded shoulder. She wanted to yell out to her father-in-law to stop the fight, but she looked upon Lucius' stone face and realized that her pleas would fall on deaf ears. All she could do was pray that her husband would win and that Vitus would walk away relatively unscathed.

The soaked and confused Proculus continued to examine his fresh wound. The cut ran horizontal on his shoulder and wasn't as deep as he thought, but a small amount of blood was trickling down his arm.

_Blood . . . I'm bleeding_, Proculus thought to himself, _He got me; Vitus actually landed a blow on me._ Proculus looked away from his wound and returned his focus on Vitus, who was standing a good distance away silently waiting for Proculus to resume the fight.

_Luck! He got me with luck! It must have been the rain that made me lose balance for him to strike;_ he told himself as he gritted his teeth at Vitus and tightened the grip of his sword. His shoulder began to burn slightly and the wound began to sting, but Proculus ignored the pain.

He once again took his flawed stance against Vitus and slowly began inching his way closer to Vitus. Vitus took a more reliable and solid fighting stance and approached closer as well.

As the brothers were within 5 meters of each other, Proculus darted forward in an attempt to skewer his younger brother. But once again Vitus saw the attack coming and made a simple pivot out of the way. With swift finesse, Vitus parried Proculus' sword downward with his sword, causing Proculus to awkwardly stumble forward yet again.

Vitus took another opportunity; as Proculus continued to stagger forward, Vitus scooted behind him and delivered a quick vertical slash to the back of Proculus' left thigh. Proculus fell screaming as he crashed into the wet, hardened sand grasping his leg.

"Second blood has been drawn," Antonius announced once again.

"Lucius stop this at once!" Octavia shouted to her husband.

"This bout will not be stopped."

"Fine! I will see it stopped myself!" Octavia tried to run back inside so she could head to the training square to stop her sons. Lucius lunged forward with his arm and wrapped her into his chest and held her tight. She tried to struggle out of his grip, but Lucius just pulled her in tighter to his chest.

"Place faith in my decision," Lucius grunted as he tried to stop her from squirming, "This will bear fruit in the near future."

Proculus felt the open cut on the back of his thigh; it was a deeper cut than the one on his shoulder and blood began to flow out at a steadier rate. Yet the cut wasn't deep enough to be life-threatening and it wasn't deep enough to make him walk with a limp after a proper recovery.

Proculus slowly rose to his feet and he awkwardly balanced himself trying his best to keep his weight off of his left leg.

"Brother . . . let us end this fight," Vitus genuinely asked of his bleeding brother, "Just offer surrender and we can end this day without further bloodshed."

"You think me to be beaten?" Proculus spat in frustration as he winced in pain from his leg, "I have just begun!"

"Proculus you can hardly walk, yet stand up straight. Please consider surrender," Vitus asked in a sort of pleading tone.

"Never! I will never surrender! Especially to you Vitus, you short hemorrhoid-filled fuck!"

Vitus lowered his head in self-reflection at the comment and allowed for the heavy rain drops to soak his hair. Vitus clenched his sword tighter and began sucking his teeth. He pulled his head up and glared at his brother with fire in his eyes. _You brought this upon yourself,_ Vitus thought to himself.

Vitus ran towards his wobbling brother and picked his target on his brother's body to deliver the final blow. Proculus tried to move backwards but could only stagger because of his wounded leg.

As Vitus was in handshaking distance; Proculus swung his sword in desperation only for it to be swatted out of Proculus' hand by Vitus' sword. And in one swift motion, Vitus swung his sword towards' Proculus' face and slashed him on the bridge of his nose.

Proculus covered his nose with both hands and recoiled backwards, screaming as if he was on fire. But Vitus wasn't done yet; he brought his leg up and kicked Proculus in his chest knocking the elder brother down to the wet ground.

Vitus approached his stagnant brother and pounced on top of his chest like a cat. Vitus took a good look at the final cut he gave his brother; it was a deep cut that almost went to the bone of the bridge of the nose. Blood was flowing out of his nose and ran down the side of his cheeks and into his mouth.

But this moment seemed familiar to Vitus, as if he and his brother were in this position before. Vitus then remembered that two years ago he and Proculus were fighting over a trivial matter at the time, yet Proculus lost his temper and punched Vitus in the face and got on top of him and began to pummel him until Vitus received a gash on his nose.

Vitus could feel his blood boil at the thought of the beating he received, but now it was Proculus who was suffering from it. But, it wasn't enough. This wasn't enough for Proculus; he needed to be punished more. Vitus believed that this was nowhere near enough retribution for Proculus' constant bullying and cruel beatings.

Vitus threw his sword away and channeled all of his repressed anger and frustrations at his brother into his right fist. Vitus drove his fist into Proculus' nose; the cut on Proculus' nose seemed to open more as blood shot into the air.

_That was for the gash upon my nose!_ Vitus angrily cursed at Proculus in his mind. The punch felt good, but it still wasn't enough. Vitus delivered another right punch, this time to Proculus' mouth with so much power that Proculus could feel his own teeth rattle.

_That was for all the times you had slapped me in my mouth absent reason! _Vitus sent out a sharp jab to Proculus' bad eye.

_That was for pulling down my tunic in front of women two years ago!_ Vitus' slow, deliberate punches quickly turned into an all-out rapid fury of blows to Proculus' defenseless face. Proculus would try to bring his hands up to guard his face, yet Vitus kept finding a way to connect to his bruised face.

_That was for all those times you harassed me! That was for the childish pranks you played on me! That was for the spits in my face! _Proculus' hands fell away from protecting his face and went limp. _That was for blaming me when you took Father's horse all those years ago! That was for trading my dog for wine! _Proculus' blood shot up and hit Vitus in the face. Vitus kept going. _That was for stealing my coin that Uncle gave me! That was for spending it at the whorehouse! And THIS is for being my brother!_

"Vitus enough!" a feminine voice hollered from the balcony.

Vitus held his punches and looked over his shoulder to see Appia leaning over the balcony with flowing tears in her eyes as she stared at her brother-in-law beating her husband to death.

Proculus' coughing snapped Vitus back into the fight. Crimson blood had covered Proculus' entire face like it was a mask; with more blood being spat up from his bleeding mouth and busted lips. His broken nose was the main source of the blood; the small yet deep cut had turned into a hideous open gash that pumped out blood worse than a gut wound. He was knocked out with the only sign of life being his bad cough and raspy wheeze.

The sight of his battered, bloodied brother lying unconscious by his own hands; shocked Vitus back into reality. He finally exhaled his anger and calmed down as he got up off of the broken Proculus. As he unclenched his right fist, he felt a sharp pain go through his ring finger.

Vitus examined his hand and noticed that his right hand was lightly shaking. He could feel his entire hand sharply tingle as he tried to move his fingers. He also noticed that his knuckles were red and were coated with the blood of Proculus. His knuckle on his ring finger was especially red, he touched it and it was very tender and looked like it was swelling. _I broke my knuckle_.

Vitus turned his attention to his brother who was lying in the pelting rain with a bloodied face. Vitus' face shrunk in horror at the damage he did to his brother. He didn't know what happened, all he meant was to point the sword at his throat, but he just saw a red mist over his eyes and turned into a base animal.

"No . . . no I couldn't have done this," Vitus said to himself, a tear of sadness welled up in his eye while he was backing away shaking his head in denial.

"Vitus, victor!" Lucius bellowed from the balcony. Vitus spun around to see that Romulus was already in front of him.

Vitus looked up to his father to see if it was joke. But Lucius, with a straight face yet with eyes clearly disturbed, nodded at his youngest son and extended his arm for Vitus to accept Romulus. Octavia on the other hand was not present at her husband's side. After the third punch and with Lucius not allowing anyone to stop the fight, Octavia had run back inside the barracks to leave since she could not watch her sons beat each other senseless.

Appia leaned over the balcony and starred at her husband's motionless body out in the rain. She then starred at Vitus who stood out in the rain looking back at her while gently massaging his broken knuckle. Her face began to twist in a mix of disappointment and disgust towards the bewildered Vitus. She was disappointed that he went the extra step to punch his already beaten brother; and she was disgusted that he would continue to beat him until his body fell limp. He was not the man she thought he was. He was not the younger brother she always wanted to have.

Appia turned her back on Vitus. Vitus' heart sank to the lowest depths of his chest. To see the woman that he has been infatuated with since he had first met her turn away from him in disgust was too much for him. He lowered his head in shame and didn't even want to claim his prize. If he knew that Appia would have scorned him in that manner, Vitus would have never claimed Romulus for himself.

"Vitus, you may now claim Romulus," Lucius commanded him.

Vitus first picked up Antonius' sword that he threw away and gave it back to the Tribune. "That was a splendid performance," Antonius whispered to Vitus with a smile, "I'm glad you put that fool in his place!" Vitus brushed the comment off as he sulked over to Romulus.

And almost like it was on cue, Proculus began to wake up with a series of groans. The rain had washed away most of the blood on his face when he was unconscious, but he still wore a grisly coat of smeared blood on his face. He slowly got to his wobbling feet as he held his head and looked around the training ground trying to gain a sense of his surroundings.

At the sight of her swaying husband, Appia ran from the dry balcony and into the rain, out onto the training square next to her disoriented husband.

"Proculus, you have lost. You may now claim Remus," Lucius told his beaten son.

The horse was then brought to Proculus as he was gaining more of a balanced footing. Proculus took a few moments to compare the inferior horse to the more superior one. He took his time to look into the eyes of his victorious brother, to see if he had the audacity to gloat.

Vitus however lowered his eyes, not wanting to feel anymore guilty by looking at the brother that he had almost beaten to death. He knew that Proculus was expecting him to brag over the victory in some manner, but what would it had proved? Vitus closed his eyes and refused to even acknowledge Proculus out of shame for beating him into submission.

Wet, groggy, beaten, humiliated, and to be ignored by his triumphant brother; this was by far the worst day in Proculus' life. Proculus scoffed loudly and swatted his wife's comforting arm off of him and left the training ground, limping all the way back to the palace alone.

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**How many of us have been in Proculus' shoes? Always living in the shadow of a talented sibling, family member, or friend. And to make matters worse, to be humiliated in front of everyone by said person. Anyway, thank you for reading and f.y.i. I am using the dialogue based off the Latin dialogue from the Starz series Spartacus. I love the show in every way especially how they would not speak conventionally in English; which kind of makes sense to me. If you have not seen the Spartacus series, than you should. Please leave reviews, I would love to hear your thoughts, especially if you think the dialogue is awkward or not.  
**

**Thank you for taking your time to read this fic!**


	4. Time to Heal

**Note from Kanuro5:** I'm glad I could get this chapter out. If you all are continue to read this then I want to extend my utmost gratitude. Hope you all will enjoy.

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**III**

It was three days after the exhibition where Vitus bested Proculus for claim over the stallion Romulus. Today was like any other autumn day in Alesia; a light yet stinging chill that swirled around the city on a sunny day, the flowing business and commerce in the market square, and the hurrying of formation drills of the legion being overseen by Lucius Julius in the barracks.

Outside of the Governor's Palace, Vitus was riding on top of Romulus around the large square in front of the palace. After Vitus had won Romulus, he would spend every waking hour riding, grooming, and feeding the gigantic steed. Once Vitus mounted his horse and with a kick to the side, Romulus would take off faster than an arrow being released.

Now Romulus was magnificent in appearance, but he was truly magnificent when he was galloping. Every detailed muscle in the stallion's body would begin to gently expand out in its wonderful stride. His dark, thick mane and tail would flow majestically in the wind as he began to speed up. His strong, warm hazel eyes remained focused and undaunted from all distractions that were in his way. To match his appearance in his gallop, Romulus had an abundance of stamina that could match his speed and grace.

After the final lap around the square, Vitus gently pulled on the reins and Romulus gently slowed from a gallop to a trot until he finally became stationary. The dozens of onlookers at the square clapped in admiration for Vitus and his noble horse's performance. Vitus smiled at the onlookers and politely waved to them.

He then gently and lovingly stroked Romulus' neck and whispered into his ears with a smile, "That was incredible Romulus. You even surpassed your last lap by at least ten seconds. You are greatness incarnate and I shall honor you as such. We will continue to improve together, but for now it is time for me to retire."

Vitus stayed on top of Romulus as they walked over to the Palace stables. Vitus took a gander at the front of the splendid palace; he thought to himself how lucky he was to live a good life. But a lone figure walked over to one of the windows on the top left side of the palace and began staring out at the square. Although the details of the figure were obscure to Vitus, based off the location of rooms in the palace, Vitus knew that figure looking outside the room was none other than his brother Proculus.

A flood of guilt and shame flowed through Vitus' body, souring his golden mood. After the fight, Proculus remained a shut-in inside of his room in the palace for three days with his body slave Euphatos turning away all who entered, including family. Vitus gently bit his lower lip and lowered his head and headed to the stables regretting his actions he committed against his brother.

The young and beautiful Appia was storming through the palace in search for her husband. She finally approached the entrance to Proculus' bedchambers and was greeted by Euphatos who was guarding the entrance at his master's command. Appia sighed in frustration at the sight of Euphatos still keeping out anyone from entering, but she tried her best to put on a warm smile as she casually walked forward to speak to him.

Rhythmic sounds of wood striking against wood could be heard coming from inside Proculus' bedchambers with a few grunts being let out in frustration.

"Euphatos, has my husband finally permitted visitation?" Appia asked the slave with a glowing smile.

"Apologies _Domina_, but _Dominus_ still has requested that no one enter his bedchambers," Euphatos replied, refusing to look her in the eyes. Appia's smile disappeared and her face grew serious.

"Euphatos, I have been away from my husband's side for three days and I would not wait any longer! I will be by my husband's side!" Appia raised her voice.

"Apologies once again _Domina_, but _Dominus_ has commanded me not to let any—"

The clanging of the wood stopped. "Euphatos, you may let Appia enter!" Proculus called out in a huff.

Euphatos bowed his head towards Appia and moved away to the side and allowed the doting wife to enter the bedchambers.

Upon entering Proculus' room, she was overtaken by the musty smell of sweat that filled the air. His bedchamber was a mess; sheets and curtains were spread across the floor while jugs and vases were shattered against the walls. Her husband was wearing the crimson tunic of the Julii as his back was facing Appia. Proculus held a wooden sword and was busy striking a wooden practice dummy that Euphatos took from the barracks at Proculus' request.

The wooden dummy had shown signs of wear as there were large grooves, dents, and nicks made into the wood; all caused by Proculus who was repeatedly striking the dummy for three days straight. As Proculus raised his sword to strike the dummy again, Appia took a moment and saw that something has changed with his fighting style. His stance was more balanced and sturdy unlike the weak stance he took against his brother three days ago. His strikes were no longer powerful and slow; but it was fast yet strong and precise. His movements were quick yet he always took paused when he launched off his wounded back leg. Yet disregarding his bad leg, he had a certain rhythm down every time he would unleash an attack. His style actually began to resemble that of a legionary.

After a few moments of gazing at her husband's back; Appia decided it was best to start off the conversation. She felt like scolding him for not allowing her to see him for three days, but she quickly decided against that foolhardy notion.

"I have seen that your form has improved in the past days," she hesitantly remarked, uncertain that what she said was a good icebreaker.

"I have seen myself to sneak out of the palace to bear witness to the legionaries' training," Proculus replied, not turning around to talk to his wife.

Appia twisted her head and squinted her face, "You left the palace? How have you escaped sight from your bedchambers? No person has witnessed your absence?"

"I am more clever than most would say I am. I studied with earnest on the form of the First Cohort and have mirrored their skills and prowess to near perfection." Proculus began to once again strike the wooden dummy with precision.

Appia grew impatient and annoyed at the sight of her husband's back, "Can you at least grace your wife with the presence of your face when you address her?" she hissed.

When Proculus reluctantly turned around, the sight that greeted Appia was hardly what she was expecting. His former cream colored face was now a patchwork of color; his nose was swollen and bruised across the bridge. Around his former black left eye, the dark, blossoming patch of purple was beginning regress to a yellowish red. Another bruise shadowed his jawline in a bluish black hue as his now purplish, lightly swollen lips began to gain its earlier pinkish color.

"Please inform me if my face has graced your presence?" Proculus sarcastically said as he took a bow and extended his arms out for emphasis.

Appia slightly covered her mouth with her hands in horror, slowly approaching her battered husband, staring in disbelief. She gently reached out and touched his bruised and scarred face, only for her hands to be brushed off by Proculus.

"Oh Proculus, your face!"

"Three days ago my face was uglier than Vulcan's ass," he chuckled as he gave her a pained smile, "The medicus has earned his coin and made substantial improvement with the reconstruction of my once beautiful face."

"Improvement? Your face is damaged!"

"Recovery will not come overnight, despite best wishes," he disappointedly stated.

Appia once again gently placed her delicate fingers on his scarred face and ran her thumb across the cut on the bridge of his nose. Her thumb could feel the string of stiches and remains of dried blood across the bridge.

"This cut seems deep . . . will it—?"

"Scar," Proculus bluntly finished her question. "The cut was deep, to the bone. But once recovery is complete, it will most likely become a noticeable scar."

"What would possess Vitus to act like that?!" She growled in anger.

"Do not place fault on him," Proculus begged, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"But his fury brought this outcome on you, and you do not find fault in it?" she asked in disbelief.

Proculus sighed as he gently limped pass Appia and sat down at the edge of his bed, rubbing the stiches on the back of his bad leg, "I cannot blame him for the way I acted."

Appia looked down at her husband with foreign eyes, trying to contemplate why her husband was acting so different. If any person wronged Proculus in any sort of way, Proculus would go off on a temper tantrum for days on end cursing the wrongdoer. But here, he was passive and calm; by the look of the room he may have had tantrum as soon as the fight was over, but now he was completely at peace.

"What has happened to you? This is not like you at all, to forgive one who wronged you so," she asked with concern.

Proculus began sucking his teeth in thought of his past interactions with his younger brother. He snapped out of reminiscing and looked up at his devoted wife, "No, I have wronged him many times in the past; such stances were that because I was the elder brother and play childish, brotherly tricks upon him. But . . . my previous insult has caused him much unfortunate grievance."

Appia walked to the bed and sat down next to Proculus, "Proculus, what did you spend Vitus' 100 denarii on to aggravate him so and why?" she asked in a tone that sounded like she didn't want to find out the true answer.

Proculus brought his head up to his face his wife's questioning, yet compassionate face. He took a pause, trying to gather his thoughts on the truth. Could she handle the truth? She deserved it but could she handle it? Proculus already knew the answer to that.

"I . . . I took the coin and had it donated to ease the suffering of the children of past wars with Rome," Proculus lied.

"You donated your brother's coin?" Appia asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Indeed. I was reading upon scroll of how my Father put down armed resistance when he conquered most of the land. With fathers and mothers dead, the parentless youths have no one proper to raise them. I decided to take my brother's coin to give them a better life, and thus demonstrate the generosity of the Julii. I thought my brother would understand my intentions, but . . . absent understanding bears results you see on my face."

Appia was stunned with joy, for years, she wanted to form a charity to help the orphans and those devastated by the war with Rome, and for her husband to be so generous was unbelievable. She wrapped her arms around him and embraced him in a loving hug.

"Oh Proculus that was the most thoughtful act you have made. I just wished that you did not need to turn to theft to procure this generosity."

"I am aware, a small price to pay to ensure a better life for those of less fortune than us," Proculus said, still surprised that his lie worked.

"You are a wonderful and blessed man Proculus. The Gods truly have great things planned for you."

"The Gods?" Proculus scoffed with a smirk in disbelief, "The Gods have never had any great things for me."

"How can you say such things? The Gods have blessed you beyond fortune," the loving wife replied, laying her hands on his shoulders.

"Yes, I will remember that," he said dismissively, not wanting to engage in another theological debate with Appia.

Appia cupped Proculus' face between her hands and gently turned his head to face hers. She leaned in close to his face and gently planted a sweet, loving kiss on his swollen lips. Once she parted lips, she brought her face close to his and locked eyes with him until their foreheads were touching each other.

"You will do great things in the future; you just need to believe it and to allow your father to see it. Once proper opportunity presents itself, seize it with both hands and future glories will fall into your possession like the rain! I know you Proculus; you have hidden potential and strength that can rival Hector himself. I believe in you, I love you. I know you can do anything you want. Even if the Gods do not hand anything to you; then you must seek the treasures of world for yourself. The world is yours; greatness awaits you, now you must seize it!" Appia inspiringly told him.

For a moment, Proculus was dumbstruck. Then Appia witnessed a certain fire burning in his eyes, as his heart was stirred underneath his breast by her passion-filled speech.

"You are right Appia!" Proculus triumphantly said as a newfound energy pumped through his blood, "I can be great, I will my make greatness known so that even my father will see it!"

Appia smiled proudly at the sight of her husband brimming with passion. "Then what will you do with your greatness? How will you be remembered?"

"I . . . I am Proculus of the Julii and I will not be ignored. Mark my words Appia; I will lead this family to greatness. I will one day rule the Julii and forge a kingdom—or even an empire on top of it!"

Appia hugged her inspired husband and tenderly kissed his cheeks. "I believe in you Proculus, and I will never stop."

"Has a man ever been so blessed to have a loving wife such as you?" he asked with a charming smirk.

"Never. Because there exists no man that stands equal than the one before me," she sultrily whispered. "Now let us go to the baths; you will need to look presentable when you leave."

"And can I trust that you will accompany me?" he whispered in a soft yet strong seductive tone.

"Of course, it has been far too long since we have last bathe together," she whispered back as she nuzzled her face against his face amorously. The young married couple gazed into each other's eyes and could recognize the love that existed between them.

"Apologies _Dominus,_ but you have a visitor," Euphatos announced as he entered the bedchambers with his head bowed. Vitus entered the chamber with his eyes glued to floor, not wanting to witness the uncomfortable embrace between his brother and his wife.

Appia quickly brushed herself off and worriedly exchanged glances between Proculus and Vitus, nervous to see if the brothers would come to blows again.

"Brother," Vitus uncomfortably started off, "I . . . I would want to offer my apologies—"

"There will be no need for it," Proculus cut him off. "I understand that I have wronged you deeply in the past, with this insult being the worst of the wrongs."

Proculus stood up to walk over to his brother and looked at him with genuine eyes, "Vitus, you are my dear brother and I will not lie, no matter what petty insults or wrongs I may inflict on you, we are still brothers."

Proculus extended his hand out, "And that is why I offer my most humble apologies for the stealing of your denarii; and I recognize that the possession of Romulus is proper reimbursement for my crimes. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?" he sincerely asked of his brother.

Vitus studied the battered face of Proculus, and for the first time since he could remember, Vitus could see that he was indeed being honest with his apology. The sudden honesty brought a smile to Vitus' face as he extended his hand forth and shook his hand.

"Apology forgiven," Vitus answered with a proud smile. "Now let us look past this and turn grateful eyes towards glorious future."

"Let us do so," Proculus smiled back

Appia stood to her feet and rushed over to the brothers and hugged them both; elated that this brotherly feud has come to an end. She passionately kissed Proculus on his bruised cheek, and then lightly kissed Vitus on his cheek. Vitus' cheeks flared up in a splendid color of red.

"It lifts heart to see you two put aside your quarrels and to reform bonds as brothers once more," she affectionately smiled.

"Does that mean you have forgiven me?" Vitus stammered as he began to blush harder.

"Well, it did pain heart to see you hurt Proculus as you did, but upon proper explanation from him, I am willing to overlook it."

"As am I," Proculus spoke up, patting Vitus on his back, "It is a shame for me to admit it but I somewhat . . . deserved such treatment, it has opened my eyes to what I was and how I can better myself in the future."

Vitus broke a confused smirk, "I . . . I am glad that you have changed."

"All owed to you brother, now if you excuse me I have a bath to attend."

Proculus gently limped out of his bedchambers with Appia amorously wrapped around his arm helping him to walk straight. Vitus remained in Proculus' bedchambers and saw them off with a smile on his face. But it quickly evaporated once they were out of sight.

Vitus took a look around the room and observed how disheveled the room really was. _As the state of the room as my witness, Proculus has not changed,_ Vitus thought to himself.

He did recognize that Proculus was genuinely sorry for stealing his brother's money; but one acknowledgment of a crime did not change one's character. He knew that Proculus didn't change. He was still the same lazy, short-tempered brother that he always knew. The apology was most likely to deceive Appia into thinking that everything would revert back to normal. But nothing would ever go back to normal. Vitus knew it, and Proculus knew it too. They would move on from this, but sadly their relationship was already too strained to build upon it for the better.

* * *

**Hmm, this chapter I don't really like all that much, just because I simply feel that I rushed through it.**

**But anyway, I enjoy your patience if you are waiting to see the war. I can assure you that next chapter is when they legion will march to war. **

**Thank you for taking your time to read this fic!**


	5. Off to War

_**IV**_

The hour was late within the night and the city of Alesia was full of sleep. The governor's family was sound asleep in the palace with all the slaves retiring in for the night except for some guards at the gate. Lucius and Octavia were snuggled together in a naked embrace, just like the time on the eve of their wedding night. Lucius was dreaming of former and future glories that he would attain in his lifetime; and even the coveted seat of leader of the Julii. He dreamt of being crowned with the most prestigious of laurel wreaths, the Grass Crown, for his extraordinary service for the Republic. But his dreaming of being crowned with the ultimate glory was interrupted when someone kicked in his bedchamber doors.

He groggily awoke to the sight of two lit torches in his bedchambers getting closer to him until they illuminated the silhouettes that surrounded him. From the light of the flame, he noticed his Tribune Antonius, and by his side were the two guards that were posted for night duty, and a beleaguered messenger who wore the light purple tunic of the Senate.

"What is the meaning of this?! Why are you here in my bedchambers?" he crankily shouted at Antonius.

"Apologies General, this messenger came bearing some news from the Senate. He would not tell me and insisted that only you needed to see it," Antonius explained.

"Jupiter damn him," Lucius cursed to himself as he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes, "You, messenger, what news is so important that it murders sleep?! The hour is late!"

"A thousand apologies General! But I bear news of the utmost importance; you have been assigned a mission!"

Lucius saw the scroll that messenger presented and began studying the unopened scroll in a daze. Normally, Lucius would be ecstatic to receive a mission; but after two rounds of copulating with his wife, he was enjoying one of the best sleeps that he ever had. He was simply too tired to read the mission or care for it.

"Okay, place the scroll by the side, I shall read it in the morning. My brother's mission can wait until then," Lucius said as he cozied up to go back to sleep.

"General!" the messenger shouted, causing Lucius to bolt up and also causing Octavia to stir awake.

"Wh-What's happening?" Octavia yawned.

"General! You need to read this!" the messenger emphasized, "This was not delivered to the Julii Leader. This came straight from the Senate, directly to **you**."

The Julii heir studied the serious and focused face of the messenger and deemed that this mission must have been important for the messenger to have the gall to yell at a general. He grabbed the scroll and began to unravel it; and with the light from the torch, he started carefully reading the message word-by-word.

* * *

The sudden stampede of activity outside Proculus' bedchambers woke him from a heavy slumber. He sat up in his bed with his wife, Appia, still intimately clinging to his body in her sleep. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and gained his bearings of his surroundings. It was still late at night, yet the torches were lit in the hallway outside his room. He could hear the excited, yet muffled conversations of people talking throughout the palace as they were running through the hall.

Proculus escaped from Appia's grasp, waking her up in the result, and ran to put on his fresh crimson tunic. He walked outside his room and was nearly run over by a slave carrying maps in the hallway. The slave quickly apologized to Proculus and went on his way. All the torches in the interior of the palace were lit and all the slaves were rushing everywhere inside the palace. Something was wrong.

"Brother!" Vitus shouted from the opposite end of the hallway from the entrance of his bedchambers, "Brother! What happened? Have the slaves gone mad?"

"I do not know! My ears suggest a tempest when I awoke, and I find this outside my bedchambers!" Proculus called back.

"What shall we do?"

"Put your tunic on and let us find Father and Mother!"

Proculus went back inside his bedchambers to put on his sandals and was greeted by his naked wife who was just stirring out of bed.

"Proculus, what has happened?" she yawned, wiping the sleep from her eye.

"I do not know, get dressed now. Just put on anything to cover yourself," Proculus commanded, finally putting on the last sandal. Proculus grabbed his sword belt and sword just in case, and quickly left his room and was greeted by Vitus who also had his sword with him.

The brothers followed the stream of slaves throughout the palace until they arrived at their father's "War Chambers"; the room where Lucius would discuss with his commanders military tactics and assignments. The Brothers rushed inside the room and were greeted by a remarkable sight.

The usually empty "War Chambers", that was often filled with statues and bust of Roman heroes and Gods from the pantheon; was now filled with the dozens of ancillaries that worked under Lucius and with fully armored legionaries stationed by Lucius' side. Vitus noticed that most of the legionaries present were in fact the 10 senior centurion commanders of the ten cohorts of the legion. The ten cohort commanders were crowded around a long wooden table staring down at a large map near the edge of the table. The Tribune, Antonius, was there as well pointing out locations on the map to General Lucius who was fully dressed in armor and carried his helmet at his side.

Octavia cautioned the brothers to come inside quietly and to stand by the side of the room where they would not get in the way.

"Mother, why has an assembly been called?" Vitus whispered.

"Your father has received a mission from the Senate earlier in the night. It is imperative that he moves out at once."

"Father is mobilizing the legion? He is going to fight?" Proculus asked with a hint of excitement.

"Indeed he is, now whisper softly, for we cannot disturb your father's assembly."

"Antonius, give report on the whereabouts of all veterinary legionaries," Lucius asked of his second-in-command, not turning his eyes to look away from the map.

"All legionaries that have served through 18 years or more of campaigns have returned from their military leaves and have returned to the legion, General."

Lucius turned to ask his ancillary, the Mercenary Captain, Titus Publiarnus; "Publiarnus, since we are crossing into Gallic territory, are there any men that may be bought into the legion?"

"Yes General, we are more than likely to recruit barbarian mercenary spearmen from the Velhetii tribe. They are fierce yet impetuous warriors, like all barbarians are, but if we can hire around 300 of the spearmen; then they will present greater numbers for us."

Lucius studied the map and traced his fingers along the road that led to his objective. It was a long, winding road that took them directly into the forest, once they crossed the border. Lucius consulted his next ancillary, his geographer, Aulus Silius; "Silius, I have come to believe that based on this map, to move a legion of almost 5,500 men or more across 300 miles will take about one month, maybe two. Is that correct?"

"It depends General," Silius replied, making his way to the map and pointing out key locations, "As you are aware, the quickest way to the city is following the road. Once we leave Alesia, the earth forms into rolling hills and thick woods that can blot out the sun. But the real problem, as you know General, is the winter. Within a month, the days will be shorter and the land and sky will turn cold and snow will fall on the earth and ice will form, slowing down all movement. And with each passing week, the days will grow colder making it harder to maneuver through the woods and the hills. Also, Alesia has built paved highways for travel, but once we leave the region, we will cross on useless dirt roads which will slow down the entire legion. Once winter arrives, it may take two full months, maybe even three."

Lucius quickly turned to his next ancillary, the Quartermaster of the Legion, Flavius Sulpicius; "How well are provisions for the legion?"

"They are . . . above adequacy, General. We have enough food to feed the legion, but not enough as to sustain for three months. If we want our legion to continue to be well-fed, we must acquire a constant source of food from the barbarian tribes that are still loyal to Rome; as you are knowledgeable of. But all respect must be given General; I need to broach the subject on what Silius has previously described with the condition of winter. With winter, as you know, crops are rendered useless and game becomes scarce for us to hunt. We must fully requisition all assets from any barbarian village that we come across to manage the survival of the legion. Also there is the issue of warmth for the legion. We do not have enough blankets for the entire legion, or tents. If we stayed here in Alesia for another month, we could fully procure such luxuries."

"Fine then. Have the blankets and tents distributed to the most senior cohorts first," Lucius commanded.

"Yes General . . . oh, and apologies General, but what about the auxiliary?"

"They will just have to manage," Lucius coldly replied, not bothering to look up from the map. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and placed his helmet on the table as he ran through his final thoughts.

"Antonius, please give me the total number of men present in the legion?" Lucius asked of his Tribune.

"Yes General. With the men of the Twenty-Eighth present; there are 5,120 legionaries. Then with addition of the auxiliary; we have 150 Syrian archers along with 100 Cretan archers, 300 barbarian swordsmen and spearmen that mainly come from the Getae tribe from Thrace. And we are also promised to meet up with barbarian light cavalry a week after we leave which will number 100 horsemen. So in total General, the Twenty-Eighth Legion shall stand at 5,770 men."

"Hmm, it would be better if we had more archers and cavalry, but this shall suffice," Lucius said to himself.

The brothers were in awe at the sight of their father working with his men; he was deep in thought of what needed to be done, yet displayed a certain level-head of control that he had with his officers. He was knowledgeable of all situation and variables that would play into his mission. Whatever his mission was, it was a complicated campaign that could cause a normal man to snap from the stress. But their father wasn't a normal man; he had seen it all and had been in the thickest of the fighting. If he was stressed, he didn't show it.

However, the assembly came to a halt when Appia, who took her time to get dressed in something spectacular, nosily stumbled in the room. Octavia quickly pulled her to the side and shushed her; however, Lucius raised his head towards the sudden outburst and finally noticed that his sons Proculus and Vitus were in the room the whole time.

"Proculus, Vitus, I was not aware of your presence," Lucius said with a low tone of guilt.

"Uh a-a-apologies Father, we did not want to disturb you," Proculus stammered uncomfortably.

"Nonsense, both of you draw close to me, now."

The brothers looked at each other to see if they really should go; but upon low encouragement from their mother they moved forward. They walked to their father's side and concentrated on the city that Lucius pointed to on the map of which he was studying so thoroughly about.

"Samar-Samarobrava-no, Samarobriva?" Proculus tried to pronounce, squinting his eyes to see if he was reading it right.

"Are you to conquer it, Father?" Vitus asked with glowing eyes.

"No, I am to save it."

"Save it? From who? From what?" Vitus asked.

Lucius sighed in anticipation to explain to his sons the mission the Senate has given him. He patted Vitus on the shoulder and smiled at him. Lucius looked up at all his subordinates staring at him with troubled eyes, making Lucius question their resolve.

"Every man in this room, open your ears!" Lucius bellowed to his subordinates, "If any knowledge of what has been said has escaped you, you find yourself blessed that I am to repeat myself to my sons."

Lucius turned to his sons and began to explain, "As you know, I was assigned by the Julii leader, my brother Decius, your uncle; to conquer the entire lands of Gallia. Nine long years I have dedicated to conquering this tribal land and with my greatest victory being the taking of the capital of the Gauls, the city which we now reside in. But before delivering the final blow unto the weak, demoralized Gauls; the Senate sheathed my sword and stopped me from taking the last settlement. Samarobriva is the last settlement. And thus, marked the end of my nine year campaign, that was five years ago."

"Because of the old fools in the Senate, those five years allowed the Gauls to raise its final army in that accursed settlement. So the Senate sends out its five legions, 25,500 men, all under the command of Praetor Marcus Maxentius; to conquer the city."

Proculus could hear Appia sharply gasp in shock at the mention of Marcus Maxentius' name; because Marcus is her beloved first cousin. Appia motioned forward to ask the patriarch of her cousin's condition, only to be silently stopped by Octavia; reminding her of place as a woman in an assembly.

"The Senate sent out its army to capture a city? That is the most foolish thing I ever heard," Proculus chuckled, shaking his head at the decision.

"Indeed it is. It was a political move to ensure to the commoners of Rome that the Senate has just as much power as the Three Roman Families," Antonius explained.

"So Father, what became of Marcus and his legions?" Vitus asked.

"They made their trek to Samarobriva and placed the settlement under siege for an entire year," Lucius continued, "Then they struck forth and nearly destroyed the Gauls' 12,000 man army and took the city. The Gallic king Segovax apparently escaped in the fighting."

"Besides the king escaping, what is the problem Father? All of Gallia has been taken away." Proculus callously asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Because it was a trap," Lucius explained, "In those five years in which my campaign ended; the Gauls somehow brokered an alliance between the barbaric Germans and the barbaric Britons."

"Britons?" Vitus questioned his Father in surprise, "Father, was it true that the Britons were cast off from the mainland a century ago by the Gauls? So what reasons would there be for the Britons to come back to the mainland and assist the Gauls?"

"I pondered that heavily myself," Lucius said, softly rubbing his rugged chin in contemplation, "They are barbarians so they are naturally inclined to despise us Romans, they could rally behind that. I initially would have ruled out the Brittonic presence altogether; yet from Maxentius' reports, the Britons are indeed on the mainland for the first time in a hundred years.

"But I digress, as soon as Maxentius took the city; he himself was besieged by the two barbaric armies. Still exhausted from the battle, Maxentius tried to breakout but was driven back into the city. Eventually the armies tried to take the city, yet Maxentius threw them back and is holding out as we speak. In the process, he has lost two entire legions to the barbarians. Too make matters worse, the Praetor's food supply is running low. Based on his report, he has enough food for six months, but fears he can hold out for three months."

"So Father, your mission from the Senate is to rescue him and his legions from complete annihilation?" Vitus asked.

"Correct. The Twenty-Eighth will mobilize to save the Praetor and his legions at all cost."

"This whole thing is preposterous," Proculus sneered with laughter, "Father, the Senate are only sending you and your men to save the Praetor to avoid looking like incompetent fools to the plebeians of Rome."

"Indeed they are," Lucius smirked, rather impressed that his usual slacker of a son understood the political reason behind the mission, "But it is our job as men of the Republic to do the Senate's will."

"Apologies again but I have a peculiar notion that gives me pause Father," Proculus spoke up once again, "Once Marcus was endangered, why did he waste precious time to inform the Senate instead of sending a messenger here to request for aid?"

"Because in the same manner as the Three Roman Families; you must always first contact your family before anyone else."

"So Father, how many men do the barbarians have?" Vitus asked.

"Maxentius stated that both armies have around 11,000 men; 8,000 infantry, 1,000 missile troops, and 2,000 cavalrymen. Making both armies total with 22,000 men," Lucius sighed.

"What?! 22,000 men? Father, how can the Senate expect us to win against 22,000 men when we only have almost 6,000 men?!" Proculus raised his voice as he stopped leaning from the wall and approached his calm father.

"We will overcome, Proculus!" Lucius stated with conviction.

"Father, those odds . . . if we faced both armies at the same time, the odds would be almost 4:1! It will be an utter defeat!" Proculus continued to argue.

"Enough Proculus! There is more to battle than numbers! The men of the Twenty-Eighth are the finest soldiers in the Republic and they will prevail against all odds!"

"Father, I believe you can do it, you have faced enemies that have outnumbered you, but you soundly overcame them," Vitus reassured his father. To hear Vitus' confidence brought a smile to old general's face. His senior men needed to hear Vitus' inspiring words since he realized early on that the numbers of the enemy has discouraged most of his senior officers;

"Cohort Commanders!" Lucius bellowed. All the commanders of the cohorts snapped to attention. "Return to your men and see that they are all assembled to mobilize, we leave in one hour before first light. Everyone else, get back to work."

The cohort commanders and all ancillaries present; bowed down to their wise general and quickly exited the room to attend to their duties. The brothers also took their cue and silently began to walk out of the room as well to get out of the way.

"Where are you heading off to?" Lucius said in the direction of his sons.

The brothers turned around and could see a confused grin rising on their father's face. "We were about to leave," Vitus sheepishly spoke up.

"No, do not leave yet. I will need you. Grab your armor and your sword and prepare your horse," Lucius replied with a proud smile.

The brothers looked at each other in disbelief; they could hardly fathom what their father was asking of them. Their father wanted them at his side for the battle. They would finally go out to war!

"You truly mean it, Father?" Vitus asked, his eager, jubilant smile spreading across his face.

Lucius crossed his arms and nodded with a smile. It was true; they were finally going off to war! Vitus was smiling so hard that his cheeks felt like they were about to burst. But he failed to notice that his older brother's smile was even bigger than his. _This is it,_ Proculus thought to himself. This was his time to finally gain favor with his father, his time to outshine his talented younger brother in combat. Proculus has been waiting five years for a battle where he could please his father and finally gain the proper respect that he so desperately craved. _Appia's words rang true; this is proper opportunity for me!_

"Hurry Vitus, before the legion leaves without us!" Proculus eagerly urged his younger brother as he turned to run out of the door.

"Apologies Proculus, I do not understand, where do you run off to?" Lucius called out to Proculus, stopping the elder son in his tracks.

"I am fetching my armor and sword like you said, Father," Proculus remarked with a smile on his face.

Lucius let out a heavy sigh as he ran his hand through his thin hair, frustrated that he'll have to explain the misinterpretation. He stared off into Proculus' eager eyes from across the room, and with another sigh, he told him, "You misunderstand intentions. I did not order you to get your armor; that was meant for Vitus only."

Proculus' enthusiastic smile evaporated into a confused frown in the blink of an eye. He turned his head to Vitus to see if it was an inside joke; yet Vitus was not laughing, he was just as confused as Proculus was. Proculus walked forward to his father like a curious, confused dog to his master.

"Father," Proculus muttered in a low, hurt tone, "I am not to accompany you?"

"That is correct. I have no need of you."

The whole world felt like it fell from underneath Proculus' feet at the sound of his father's comment. "I have no need of you." Those words resonated like a bell inside his head. "No need." He was not needed. He was not wanted. He was not special enough to be in battle with his father. He was worthless. "I have no need of you." Those six words wounded him worse than any enemy blade could.

"What? But why, Father?"

"I do not need you on the field, Proculus. Your brother Vitus can efficiently take your place," Lucius said, not bothering to look at Proculus, instead he was too focused on the map of Samarobriva.

_Vitus_. Proculus slowly turned his head back and peered at Vitus; only to find that Vitus was just as equally shocked as his elder brother. _It had to be Vitus, why is it always Vitus chosen over me?_

"Why Vitus? I am the elder brother. It should be my right," Proculus spoke up, a wave of sadness enveloping his voice.

"I will discuss it later when we come back," Lucius irrelevantly dismissed his elder son with his eyes still glued to the map.

"Father, I want to know."

"And I told you, I will tell you once we return."

"Father, I demand you tell me!" Proculus snapped, his fist clenching in anger.

"What does it matter to you, that I picked your brother over you?!" Lucius shouted back, finally taking his eyes off of the map.

"That I am the elder and you give first privilege of battle to the younger brother instead of me! Father, I have been waiting since I donned the _toga virilis_ to go into battle at your side. Now proper opportunity presents itself and you will deny me of it in favor of Vitus! Why Father? What does he possess that I do not?!"

"Maturity, leadership, courage, ambition, honesty, strength, tactics, knowledge, selflessness, and Roman virtue! Need I go on?!" Lucius listed off as he walked over to the frustrated Proculus, "And you have none of those. I have watched you carefully after you turned sixteen and you lacked heavily in these fields. And how Vitus easily bested you in the training grounds for the horses a week ago, heavily influenced my decision."

"Our exhibition? You are mainly basing your choice off of our fight?" Proculus incredulously asked, "Father, I have changed since then. I have resumed training with the sword and a few days ago I began riding Remus and practiced with Vitus!"

"I do not care, my decision is final."

"This is not fair, Father!" Proculus angrily pouted as he gnashed his teeth together, "I am the eldest son, this is not fair!"

"Shut your mouth!" Lucius screamed as he smacked Proculus across his mouth. The sudden blow caught Proculus off guard and he went crashing to the floor. Appia and Vitus ran to his side and picked the daze Proculus back up to his feet.

"Be a man!" Lucius demanded of his son, grabbing his tunic and bringing him closer to his face, "Stop whining like a beaten dog! 'Oh it is not fair, Father! I am the eldest!' Shut up and become a man! As a man, you will become all too familiar with not getting your way! Now stop your damn crying and do as I command. You are not coming with me, you will stay here at the palace."

Lucius shoved his son backwards, not daring to break his condescending glare with his son. Proculus began rubbing his jaw to relieve the pain, but the worst kind of pain he was experiencing was on the emotional level. His father wanted nothing to do him on this campaign and he truly believed that he was worthless . . . a mistake. _Why?_ _Why does my father hate me so?_ _What have I ever done to deserve your ire beyond repair? All I ever wanted to do was make you proud?_ But he knew he couldn't, that was Vitus' role, not his.

Vitus turned to his brother and placed a soft hand on Vitus shoulders and leaned in close to his face. Vitus could see the utter disappointment and sorrow in his brothers eyes; there was no spark, no hope in them; and it terrified Vitus.

"Alright then Vitus," Proculus finally spoke, his voice lowly growled like gravel, "I wish you the best of luck in your first campaign. I wish I could join you but . . . well, you will be smart and you will be strong. Just be safe my dear brother."

"I will brother," Vitus replied, trying his best to think of reassuring words to console his brother, "I wish you were coming too. Do not worry, I will be safe and return in good fortune. Please take care of Mother and Appia, the palace and the city in our absence."

With no other reason to remain, Proculus gently bit his lip and turned to leave, only to be stopped by Appia. She placed her soft, warm hands around his cheeks and gazed into his soul with comforting eyes. But there was nothing in his soul to comfort, with a few choice words; his father had destroyed all the self-esteem left in his soul. Proculus gently pushed Appia aside and left for his bedchambers; fighting back tears. _Such proper opportunity._

* * *

Half an hour later, the entire Twenty-Eighth Legion was mobilized outside the palace. Every cohort was in place, standing at attention in the mid-night hours of darkness. Torches were lit around the entire area to give off a low degree of light. The general was standing impatiently outside of the palace; joined by his wife and daughter-in-law, waiting for Vitus to join them. Lucius had already said his amorous goodbye to his wife and a congenial farewell to his daughter-in-law. Before Lucius was going to order a slave to fetch Vitus, Vitus himself walked out of the palace wearing his armor with a flowing red cape that drooped down to his knees for the first time.

"Vitus, you look magnificent," his mother smiled at him, admiring her young man in armor.

"Thank you mother; I shall wear this with pride when I am in battle," he said, rather embarrassed by her comment.

"I know you will," her voice wavered as she tried to fight back the prickling of tears of pride in the corner of her eyes. This was a proud moment for a Roman mother; especially a mother of patrician status, to see their son off to war and gain untold glories and honor for the family. Glory and honor that would not only extend to the son, but to the mother as well that gave birth to him. Yet, the possibility of him never returning was always present. She was well aware that he may never come back, but she believed somehow that he would be protected from the enemy and come back home to her warm embrace, along with her husband.

"Vitus, I want you to be careful," Octavia begged, placing both hands on his small shoulders. "Do not do anything reckless that will see yourself parted from this life. Please come back to me."

"I will Mother, I will," he reassured her. She gave him her last motherly kiss on the cheek and hugged him tight, trying to channel all of her love into her strength. Octavia reluctantly released Vitus from her grasp and watched as he backed up to say his goodbyes to Appia.

"Allow me to say something," Appia said. She leaned in to him and kissed him on his cheeks. The warm, soft texture of her lips touching his cheeks sent a warming flood of emotions through his body. She hugged his body and confided into him, "You have always been the brother that I have always wanted, and the Gods have seen fit to give me a marvelous brother like you. Vitus, you are destined for great things; and this will be your first stepping stone on the path to greatness. I know that no harm will come to you; all I ask of you is to fight with strength and honor."

"Gratitude. Your words bring me peace and strength, Appia." His smile and apparent blush brought a warm, uplifting sensation to Appia, reminding her that he would indeed be safe from harm.

Vitus' horse, Romulus, was brought to him by a slave; Vitus mounted the giant horse and waved a goodbye to his concerned mother and sister-in-law before turning around to meet Antonius at the front of the legion. Antonius and Vitus stood idle as they watched Lucius stand erect on his horse as he marched around the entire legion to make sure everything and everybody was accounted for.

"Men of the Twenty-Eighth!" Lucius rallied, unsheathing his sword and raising his voice so it carried across the entire legion. "Today, we march out north to help our allies, the men of the Senate; surrounded by the ruthless barbarian hordes of the Gauls, Germans, and Britons! We will follow the task at hand and rescue our brothers, and, to send all those bastards to the afterlife! We have secured many victories in the past, and this one shall be no different! Today we march! Today we march to victory! Long live the glorious Republic of Rome, and long live the Julii that grants Rome her strength!"

The entire Twenty-Eighth Legion let out a fierce battle cry that woke everyone in Alesia from their slumber. They banged on their shields with their swords, they stomped their feet, they began hooting and hollering like wild animals, and they began chanting their general's name to the heavens. Lucius strode back to his son and Tribune, a prideful smile on his face at the sound of the men cheering his name. Another victory was sure at hand, another glory, his for the taking. The scouts on horseback lit the torches that would guide the legion and rode off out of the city, with Lucius, Antonius, and Vitus leading the marching legion out of the dark city, and off to war.

* * *

**Finally, this chapter ends the introduction of the main characters and now I can go into the campaign against the way things are in my life right now, some updates and new chapters will be posted in at a slower rate, but I will definitely try to get it done. Like I said before, if you are continuing to read this then you have my utmost gratitude; and I appreciate your views and support.  
**

**- Kanuro5**


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